


It Feels Like Gravity (When I’m With You)

by AiLaikHeda_OnMyBeda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Clexa, Clexa Adaption, Clexa Endgame, Emotional Hurt, F/F, F/M, Feels, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, I promise, Jealousy, Lesbian!Lexa, Loss of Virginity, Minor Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Slow Burn, Smut, They Date Other People, Time Jump, bisexual!clarke, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-05-07 15:26:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 110,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19212238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiLaikHeda_OnMyBeda/pseuds/AiLaikHeda_OnMyBeda
Summary: The Clexa Adpation.One drunken mistake on one fateful night will change the course of their lives forever, and Clarke Griffin will lose the only remaining person responsible for keeping her world in tact, Lexa Woods.Years later, with only heartache and bad memories between them, what will happen when both girls are reunited by one fateful coincidence on one fateful night. Will both girls finally be able to get the closure they need? Or perhaps something more?





	1. 1. The Domino Effect

The Domino Effect. It was a phrase that Clarke often heard, particularly in her sophomore Discovering Democracy class at school. Her father, Jake, used to be a lawyer, and her mother, Abby, was a doctor. So she was familiar with the theory in their respective careers, of how one little event, one little action could culminate a chain of events equal to or worse than the original.

Her mother used to explain it as, in surgery, the patient's life is dependent on the surgeons around them. Each cut, slice or stitch has the potential to set off a chain reaction. Ultimately, the outcome is in the surgeon's hands, and sometimes, a surgeon may make a mistake, resulting in a series of worsening events all culminated from that one little mistake. Ergo, the domino effect.

Her father had taken a less morbid approach and explained it as, "Clarke, sometimes when you're in an elevator full of people, you have an important decision to make. Do you fart because you need to, contaminating the air for everyone around you? Do you watch them squirm as a series of chain events unfold, of them looking around in agony for the culprit of the invisible monstrosity around them as their eyes water and they gasp for fresh air they can no longer have? Or do you hold it in, knowing in your own mind that by doing so, you're sparing everyone, including yourself, the agony of that invisible monstrosity? Knowing that by doing so, you are preventing that chain reaction from ever occurring?”

Her father always did have a flare for the dramatics, especially the toilet humour, and it stuck with him for years, until the Griffin family were given the most devastating news of their lives. "Anything and everything to make my little girl laugh," was his motto, particularly when Abby would scold him for saying such "unlady-like" and foul things to their five year old daughter.

When it came time to choose her elective sophomore classes, Clarke thought it apt to choose classes which would best help her in her journey of following in her parents footsteps, especially those which made her feel closest to her father, or more accurately, the man her father used to be. After his diagnosis, Jake had tried to remain positive, brushing away the fact that he was living to the tick of a literal time clock, one that could end at any moment. He had been okay, and for a long time too.

Eventually though, he started to forget. It was just the small things at first, like where he had put his keys, or where his wallet was. Then he started to forget where the local shop was, even though it was a minutes drive down the road. It was a progressive downhill until one day, Jake Griffin had woken up one morning and couldn't remember his family.

Clarke liked to think that somewhere deep down her father remembered her, that each time she visited him, he wasn't staring into the face of a stranger. More importantly, she wished she wasn't either. She liked to think that she was making her father proud in some sense, that he would be proud of her for wanting to make a change in the world, no matter how small of a change that may be. 

However, in the small town of Arkadia, Oregon, there wasn’t much of a change she could bring, particularly as a sophomore. Nevertheless, she was determined as ever to honour the person her father remembered her as, and the person she remembered him as, knowing that even though he wasn't there anymore, he was at least somewhere, chuckling each time she took that decision into her hands, or rather, _not_ her hands, each time she entered an elevator.

As familiar with the theory as she was, it wasn’t until the end of her sophomore year that Clarke had truly understood what it meant, and just how much of an impact it would have on her life, how one mistake would change her life, and those around her forever.

Speaking of change though, Clarke's sophomore year was perhaps the biggest change in her high schooling career. While the transition from middle school into freshman year was a wide and quite frankly, rude awakening, Sophomore year felt like a literal slap to the face.

One of her best friends, who happened to be her next door neighbour and a senior at Arkadia High, had warned Clarke that sophomore year was the year that _everything_ changed, quite literally.

It would be the year that the innocent and naive little kids Clarke had known and spent middle school and freshman year with, would start to mature into the adults they would soon be. It would be the year of self-discovery, rebellion, drinking, and even sex, and her friend, Raven, had first hand experience in all those scenarios.

Too many a night the Griffin family, consisting of Clarke, her little brother Aden, and Abby, had the unfortunate pleasure of hearing their neighbour's festivities, or more accurately, Raven's, each time her parents went away on a work trip, which seemed to be nearly every weekend for years now.

The start of Raven's sophomore year was also the unfortunate and hilarious beginning of her high school ‘goth phase’. Clarke became quickly afraid of how much her neighbour and friend changed physically, mentally and emotionally during the year.

Clarke suspects it started when her parents started going on their 'trips' each weekend, that was when all the ruckus started. Luckily for Raven, she was able to find someone who grounded her again, someone who reminded her of her true self and snapped her out of the facade she had been living in. It had been another sophomore, Anya.

Clarke also suspects that her parents absence also had something to do with Anya, although Raven never said, and Clarke never asked. Clarke was just happy that her friend seemed to settle down in a way that Clarke could never help her to.

Sometimes Clarke wished she was the same age as Raven, that way she wouldn't feel entirely left out when her rambunctious friend did some less than legal activities, because truth be told, sometimes Clarke felt like a prude, even with her other friends.

Sometimes she felt like the safe option, like that one person in the group who held everyone back because she had some highly strung moral compass. When in reality, Clarke was just itching to live out her Sophomore year in the way Raven had made it seem in the long summer months leading up to it.

Being in her senior year, Raven was just itching to graduate, to leave Arkadia and move interstate with Anya. That was one of the reasons why Clarke wished she were older, so she wouldn't have to deal with the lonely aftermath after Raven left.

The pair had formed a close bond thanks to the unfortunate absence of Raven's parents, so much that Clarke even considered Raven as her little, but big sister, so much that Raven practically slept in the Griffin house hold most nights, when she wasn't partying, and shared family dinners with the Griffin's.

Although Clarke couldn't complain too much, she knew there was no way in reality she would ever pass up the people she already had with her in Arkadia, even if that meant not following Raven interstate.

If anything, Clarke was happy that Raven and Anya had decided between themselves to take the next step in their relationship. While protective over Raven, Clarke liked Anya more than any other of Raven's past flings, and she knew that Anya would look out for Raven in the same way Clarke would, in the way that Raven's own parents had failed to do.

Although, she must admit, Anya was very, _extremely_ intimidating and fierce at first encounter, particularly with her stoic, no-nonsense attitude and high sculpted cheekbones which made her look like some futuristic warrior. Slowly, the layers peeled away, and a softer, more mushy side of Anya was revealed, to which Clarke liked to tease her about, particularly at school. 

At Arkadia, Anya was known by everyone as the cutthroat, no-nonsense senior, who could decapitate people with her glare alone. She was very much 'Rosa,' from that Brooklyn Nine Nine series that Clarke frequently binge watched. But when she was with Raven, she was a completely different person, not at all the person the students of Arkadia feared, and Clarke liked to remind her of that too.

Although, Anya gave as good as she got, and her and Clarke had somewhat of an ongoing war at Arkadia, all in good nature of course, which would sadly come to and end sooner rather than later.

For so long Clarke had envied the type of relationship which Raven and Anya shared, the type where labels, stigma, opinions and stereotypes didn’t matter, because you know that no matter how others view you or your partner, or no matter the opinions they have, you're always yourself with each other, no bullshit included. 

For a while it seemed, Clarke was jealous of that too, until a rather handsome looking boy with chocolate eyes and curly brown hair transferred to Arkadia with his twin sister all the way from Canada.

He was dubbed as "the prodigy," the next Joe Montana in quarterback history, and for some reason, out of all the girls who threw themselves at him in an attempt to gain even a seconds worth of his attention, he took a liking to Clarke, the only girl who _didn't_ throw herself at him.

The two shared a few classes together at first, Human Sciences, Maths and Gym class. At first it was just stolen glances and small smiles, which eventually turned into small waves, then quiet “hello’s.” Then soon enough, Clarke found herself falling for the charming boy. Even his twin sister, Octavia, had become quite the talk around the school, settling in nicely with Clarke's group of friends beside her brother.

The seller, however, had been once Clarke found out he joined the school's art club as an extra curricular activity. He was quite honestly the worst artist Clarke had even seen, and that was saying something, because Clarke had always thought her father had been the worst. I mean, who decides that drawing stick figures as their sophomore semester assessment was a smart idea?

Clarke took in upon herself in that moment to tutor him, considering that the majority of the art that the art club produced was for the school's theatre sets and shows. She couldn't have the theatre sets looking ghastly and stick figureish now, could she?

They had worked together for months until he had finally confessed that he only joined so he could spend more time with Clarke. It was a match made in heaven so it seemed, at least for a little while. 

Clarke dutifully helped him during art club, because he really did seem to get worse and worse with each day that went by. Thinking back on it, perhaps it was all just a romantic ploy. 

Clarke had also helped him during their shared Human Sciences class when he got stuck on difficult concepts such as cellular metabolism, or DNA replication. Though she always allowed him to figure out the answers himself, instead of doing it for him. In return, Bellamy had helped the uncoordinated Clarke in Gym class, and he might have even saved Clarke a few foot balls to the face a few times as well during groups dodgeball or soccer classes.

Their romance blossomed over the months that followed and Clarke couldn’t remember a time where she felt more complete and more sure of herself, not since before her fathers diagnosis.

As much as she relied on her family, Bellamy, Raven and Anya, they weren't the only support network that Clarke had, and they certainly weren't the most important either. 

Clarke had a tight, core network of friends, her group of "delinquents," as her father used to say, friends that she had remained close with since middle school, such as Jasper, Monty and Emori, and others she had known since pre-school, such as Murphy, Harper and Nathan.

Then there was the few she had gained more recently, such as Octavia and her new boyfriend Lincoln, who Clarke had recognised from the year above them, an upcoming wide receiver for the junior-senior football team.

Some of her friendships had inevitably fizzled out over the years, but Clarke always tried her best to surround herself with the people she could count on, anyone else was just irrelevant, just background noise.

Possibly the most important of all her friendships was her best friend, even since before pre-school, Lexa Woods. The pair had met when they were only a few years old, thanks to the friendship their parents had formed years prior when Jake Griffin was retained by one of the countries top law firms Woods, Wallace and Queen, a subsidiary law firm of the Woods Corporation. 

The pair grew up side by side and quickly formed a bond which no other could rival. Lexa was the person Clarke could always turn to during a crisis, and Lexa was the first person Clarke told when she came out as bisexual. Lexa, alongside Raven, had also been the person to support Clarke when she came out to her mother.

Lexa, among Clarke's other friends had been the one who consoled Clarke after her fathers diagnosis, promising Clarke that even when she felt like she was alone or forgotten, she would never be, not ever. Lexa had been with Clarke through everything, the good and the bad, and she  _never_ wavered. She was Clarke's rock, more than even Clarke's mother could be, not since her father. 

The Woods family had been just as welcoming as Lexa had been, welcoming Clarke in to their family when she needed, just as the Griffin's had done for Raven. They were her home away from home, so to speak. And as much as Clarke loved Raven, if Clarke ever lost Lexa, she was sure that that would be enough to break her indefinitely.

Watching her father lose himself week by week had been enough to send Clarke spiralling, only inches away from being broken, but losing Lexa on top of that would be enough to cripple and break Clarke completely.

For that reason, Clarke did everything in her power to hold on to the people she loved, not just Lexa, but the rest of her friends too.

The only time the two were ever truly divided was when Clarke started dating Bellamy. It wasn’t hard to see from an onlooking perspective that Lexa loved Clarke, more than how a best friend should, her actions alone were telling enough, not so much to Clarke though.

Once Clarke started dating Bellamy, that's when she first noticed it too, or rather, she felt the divide fall between them. In Lexa’s mind, she wanted to be the one who could make Clarke laugh like that, smile like that, because while Clarke laughed and smiled with her, when she did it with Bellamy, there was something _different_.

She was jealous, and until that moment, Clarke had never actually considered that Lexa may like her more than how a best friend should, more than how perhaps Clarke was ready to receive, feel or admit to herself in that moment. 

Clarke was eventually able to re-establish herself with Lexa again, despite the fact that she knew Lexa didn't like Bellamy, nor did she think that Bellamy was any good for her and would inevitably hurt her.

She tried to ignore those thoughts, pushing them away with all her might. She decided that Lexa was just being over protective, as Lexa had been in the past, and she tried to not let her knew realisation about Lexa's hidden feelings interfere with her romantic relationships.

However, in the end, it wasn’t Lexa who interfered, it had been Bellamy.

During their couple months of dating, Clarke had made it abundantly clear that she would never give up her virginity if she wasn’t absolutely certain. Clarke, while religious, didn’t necessarily believe in waiting until marriage, but she did believe in waiting until it no longer felt like an obligation.

Clarke knew of Bellamy’s sexual proclivities back in Canada, the boy had been very open about his past. So, Clarke made it clear that she would never have sex with Bellamy out of obligation, and it wasn't something he could ever force on her.

Bellamy had respected that, at least for a while. Until slowly, Clarke started to notice that during their make-out sessions, Bellamy wanted more. It became so obvious, obvious to the point where she had to stop their sessions so suddenly and so frequently that eventually something in Bellamy snapped.

It happened after Arkadia's victory over their biggest rivals in football, Lakeview high. Bellamy had been so ecstatic after their victory, and Clarke had wanted to share in his glee when he invited her back to his house after the game. So Clarke consented, and followed Bellamy back to his house.

Since his parents were out of town, and Octavia was spending the night with Lincoln, the night started out normal, as most of their nights together did. However, as the time passed, Bellamy became more urgent with his movements, pulling at Clarke's clothes and gripping her body in a way that made her feel as though if she didn't stop him, Bellamy wouldn't stop himself either. 

He flipped her over on the couch they were pressed against, and pressed against her body, asserting himself on top of her.

“Bellamy, stop," Clarke mumbled against his lips.

Bellamy stilled against her, then sighed before scooting off and taking perch on the far end of the couch, as far away from Clarke as he dared.

Clarke waited a minute, waited to see if he would say something, waited to see if he might apologise, if he might say "let's just watch movies and eat popcorn instead."

Instead, he sat there glaring at the wall, possibly more irritated than Clarke had ever seen him. Clarke didn't mind the irritation, that's not what angered her. She could understand the irritation to a degree, however, it was the complete lack of error and regret in his emotion which ticked her off. It was the complete lack of responsibility which ticked her off.

"This needs to stop, Bellamy," Clarke sighed, running her hands through her golden locks, now sitting on the edge of the couch as well.

Bellamy shook his head. “Can I be honest with you, Clarke? And I mean, _really_ be honest?"

Clarke nodded, turning to face Bellamy completely, giving him all her full attention while he moped elsewhere. "Of course, Bell. I'm all ears."

Bellamy continued to face the wall, not even glancing at Clarke as he spoke. "We've been dating, what, three months now? And I know how you feel about, _it,_ about _sex_ , and I completely respect how you feel. But Clarke, I feel like you aren't even considering the idea of sex, or what leads to sex."

Clarke gulped, twiddling her fingers in her lap. "I hear you, Bell. But I can't change the way I feel. I-I'm not ready, I don’t feel ready, and if you force me-"

"Will you ever be ready?" Bellamy interrupted, staring at Clarke expectantly.

Clarke shook her head, scoffing in disgust. "Sex is not something you just expect from someone, _Bellamy_. I mean, if that _is_ what you expect, then perhaps I'm not the right someone for you."

"It's not what I expect at all, Clarke, and you know that," Bellamy defended. "I just feel as though you aren't considering anything intimate at all. Anytime I get too close or touch you somewhere that makes you feel _anything_ at all, you back away and tell me to stop. A relationship is a two way street, Clarke," Bellamy muttered.

Clarke sat there speechless, her mouth gaping in shock. "And I completely agree with you, but if this is the street that our relationship is built on, I'm not so sure I want to be in it any longer."

Clarke stood with a vigour, grabbing her jacket from the floor as she passed Bellamy's sulking figure. She lingered by the front door for a second longer, hoping that Bellamy might say something, might apologise because she really deserved it this time.

Instead, he sat as silent and sulking as he was before, not even glancing at Clarke on the way out. She slammed the door louder than she should have, brushing passed a concerned Octavia who had just pulled in as she stormed down the driveway. She heard Octavia's calls, even from down the street as she tugged her jacket closer around herself. Soon enough, Octavia’s voice was lost in the chilled wind, along with Clarke’s fallen tears.

She debated calling Lexa on her walk home, telling her that she was right after all, that she was so stupid to think that a football player of all people would be understanding, and would respect her reservations on sex.

She debated calling Lexa, asking her to pick her up so they could enjoy some hot cocoa by Lexa's parents fireplace, then slumber together in Lexa's queen sized bed while they watched terrible Adam Sandler movies, and threw popcorn at each other.

Instead, she pulled her jacket closer and continued her cold, brisk walk back home, wondering why she had been so hopeful. 

Bellamy hadn’t tried talking to her for days after that, completely ignoring Clarke's existence at school. Lexa noticed the drop in Clarke's usually sunny mood immediately, but the blonde just shrugged away whenever Lexa tried to gauge what was wrong. All Clarke could think about was how Lexa was right, and how Bellamy hadn't even tried to chase her when she left.

Even Raven hadn’t had any success in coaxing the truth out of Clarke. It had become so out of character for Clarke that eventually Anya threatened to run Bellamy down in her truck if Clarke didn't tell them what was wrong. 

Octavia had tried apologising on behalf of her brother, and Clarke respected her endlessly for it, but she was the wrong Blake doing the talking.

Eventually, something happened though, the following week, something that was enough to almost split Clarke in two.

A couple of cheerleaders had been following her from the art classes to the gymnasium, whispering to each other on the way. It was nearing the end of the day and Clarke was returning to collect her sketchpad she left in the change rooms when she heard one of the cheerleaders call her name. Clarke scoffed to herself, ignoring them and their antics, until one of the cheerleaders came skipping up in front of her, harbouring a hidden agenda.

“Hey! It's Clarke right?" She questioned.

Clarke nodded wearily.

"I heard about what happened and I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. Us girls need to stick together when it comes to the boys, right?" She taunted, winking at Clarke.

"Stick together?" Clarke questioned, shaking her head in confusion.

"Yeah we do!" the cheerleader cheered, knocking Clarke's shoulder awkwardly.

Clarke stared at the girl, looking positively baffled. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. Excuse me."

Clarke turned to leave at the same moment she heard the cheerleader gasp. "Oh... You haven't heard, have you?" the cheerleader feigned innocence, watching as Clarke straightened up at the insinuation.

"Heard what?" Clarke gulped.

The cheerleader looked around cautiously, and Clarke noticed the girls behind her smirking. “After your night with Bellamy, he kind of seemed pretty glum at school. Next thing you know, Zoe is leading him around the bleachers, and when she came back, all she could talk about was that cute little mole above his hip and-"

The words continued to fall, and the cheerleaders mouth continued to move, but all Clarke saw was rage, churning, festering, bubbling rage. Even after the cheerleader had disappeared from view, all she felt was rage and betrayal, leaving her with a hole in her heart the size of Arkadia.

The final bell sounded as Clarke was making her way to Bellamy's locker, her mind overflowing with everything she wanted to say and everything she wanted to do to hurt him the way he had hurt her.

When she made it to his locker, Bellamy was casually returning his books to his locker. He must have seen Clarke from his peripheral vision, because he turned to Clarke with a small  and less than guilty smile. “Hey, I was just about to come find—“

“Pull down your pants," Clarke demanded, pushing Bellamy up against his locker. “I want to see your hip, I want to see if there’s a mole, I want to see if she’s telling the truth,” Clarke heaved, her lip quivering beneath her raging facade.

Bellamy's eyes immediately clouded as all the colour drained from his face. His smile dropped, and Clarke heard the audible _gulp_ come from his throat.

“Please tell me there’s no mole,” Clarke pleaded, "please tell me she’s only lying to screw with me, and please tell me you didn't actually cheat on me.” It all came out as a sob, as Clarke furiously wiped at her eyes.

Neither of the pair had realised the small gathering of students that had surrounded them in the hall, Lexa being one of them, and Anya being another, looking positively murderous.

Bellamy let out a strangled breath as tears began to swell in his eyes, mirroring Clarke's own. “Clarke-“ he tried consoling, as he reached for Clarke's quivering body.

“ _Don't!_  Just  _don't_ _!_ ” Clarke sobbed as she pushed herself free of Bellamy's arms. She took off in a hurry, the crowd parting an isle way for her as Bellamy stood there with his head against his locker. The last sound Clarke heard before she walked out of the school's front doors was a loud yell and a metallic  _smash_ , as if Bellamy had connected his fist to the locker.

If she stayed there a few moments longer, she would’ve seen Lexa walk up to him and give him the biggest slap of his life, leaving a sizeable red handprint upon his face. But she hadn't, she couldn't stand to see the remorseful look _finally_   and _rightfully_ on Bellamy's face, and she definitely didn't want to see the sympathy or pity in Lexa's eyes, knowing that everything could have been avoided if she had just listened to her head and not her heart, if she wasn't so envious of the people around her, if she wasn't so ready to jump into a relationship with the first person to tell her they liked her.

Clarke was left in a state of depression after that, that not even her Raven or Lexa could console. Lexa had tried to visit her, only to be met with Clarke's unwavering locked bedroom door.

Raven didn't fair much better, Abby was too busy with work to even notice her daughter's spiralling state, Jake couldn't even remember his own daughter, and Aden, well he was just too young to understand the complexity of the situation, even if Clarke confided in him.

Her friends had been completely dismissive of Bellamy whenever he tried to talk to them, Jasper and Monty had gotten suspended after they bubble wrapped Bellamy's car, even Lincoln had gotten into a blue with Bellamy during football practice one afternoon, because he was "Clarke's friend too." 

Octavia had appeared a few times at Clarke's front door, but Clarke wasn't up to seeing the smaller brunette, not yet, not until the stares or the rumours stopped.

That was a long shot at best though. People all around the school had gossiped non-stop that Clarke Griffin was dumped by Bellamy Blake because she wouldn’t put out, because she was a prude. Clarke couldn't even set foot on the school grounds without receiving the stares or the comments.

Her friends tried as best they could, shielding her from what they could. "Cheer up, Clarke," Jasper had said, "soon enough, the next stupid person will do the next stupid thing and everyone will forget about you!" It was the first time Clarke had smiled since that day at the lockers, yet it was still the lowest point in her high school career, no matter how much her friends protected her.

It continued that way for a while, for long enough that Jasper began to question his theory until one night, Octavia invited Clarke to a house party since the Blake family were out of town watching Bellamy's away game.

Reluctantly, Clarke showed up, only after Raven had gotten the approval from Octavia to cut holes in all of Bellamy's underpants.

Surprisingly, Octavia had made it a costume party, so that Clarke wouldn't be recognised should she decide to come in some extravagant costume.

With some help from Raven, Clarke opted to wear her old angel wings, and a form fitting, white cocktail dress which complemented the start of her voluptuous adult figure. Her presence had drawn the looks of many students at the party, although they weren't quite the looks Clarke had been expecting. certainly not from the people she was expecting neither wanted.

The house had been packed with students from her sophomore class, the junior class, even people that Clarke had never seen before. The Blake's were certainly an affluent family, why they decided to transfer to Arkadia Clarke will never understand. The house itself was one of the biggest in the town, and the music coming from the party could be heard from down the street.

The guests were dressed into all kinds of costumes, some scary, some suggestive, and some other worldly. It almost looked like a parade with all the decorations, eerily reminiscent of the colourful happiness that Clarke once had. But she decided to shove those thoughts from her mind.

Raven and Anya had disappeared shortly after arriving, and Clarke was left to fend for herself, weaving in and out of the bodies of people, looking for one body in particular. It didn't take her long until she found the body she was looking for, moving to the rhythm of the music, looking more beautiful than Clarke had come to realise before. 

It wasn’t an issue of attraction, clearly, anyone with eyes could see that Lexa was exceptionally gorgeous, with her unblemished and tanned skin, green eyes and brown wavy hair. If Lexa had been a stranger, Clarke would have made a move then and there, instead she stopped herself.

It’s just, Clarke had known Lexa for so long, the longest of everyone, and she valued the friendship she had with Lexa more than the risk of destroying it from a failed attempt at a romance. They were better off as best friends in Clarke's opinion, that way, Clarke could always have Lexa at least in some capacity, that way, Clarke's worst nightmare of losing Lexa wouldn't become reality.

But after downing a few cups of vodka and coke, risks were the last thing on Clarke's mind, and the movement of Lexa's hips were most hypnotising. Especially when they moved high enough that Clarke caught a glimpse of those tanned hip bones.

Clarke's vision was slightly quirky, but otherwise she just felt weightlessness and extremely eccentric. She hadn't realised how long she had been standing there, staring at Lexa until the girl turned and noticed Clarke staring at her with a visible hunger, like a predator gazing at her prey.

Immediately, Clarke's vision was engulfed by the green from Lexa's eyes. She shamelessly took in Lexa's outfit, allowing her eyes to memorise every inch of her best friend’s body.

The way her black, sleeveless body suit clung to her hips and abdomen, revealing a very fine set of lines beneath. How her fish net stockings accentuated her long, nimble legs, how her black heeled boots tapered off at above her knees, exposing a generous amount of tanned thigh.

How the purple and gold lined coat she wore hugged underneath her breasts and had a large slit at the front and the back, really only allowing the coat to hang along the side of her legs while everything else was exposed.

Her smokey makeup had Clarke almost shuddering at how intense Lexa's gaze was. The brunette just stood there smirking, noticing the effect she had on Clarke as the blonde took in her features.

All it took was for Lexa to seductively raise a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, swing her styrofoam pirate sword and mutter "dance with me," for Clarke to lose all inhibition or care.

For once in her life, she acted on impulse, consequences be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a Glee inspired Supercorp fiction, started in February of 2018. The Supercorp adaption is almost at it’s end, and while in editing, there are many things I wish I had done differently to make the story better for readers. Here is my chance to improve this story in a Clexa adaption.
> 
> If you are familiar with my Supercorp version, you may notice some bits and bobs will be exactly the same or similar, although I want to bring the best of the Supercorp adaption into this Clexa version. 
> 
> Let me know how I’m going with this new adaption, and I’m open to suggestions on anything and everything. I like to use every piece of advice and criticism I get from my readers - emphasis on criticism ;).
> 
> Update: 16/06 - I have made a slight alteration which I think will best fit this adaption. Jake is now alive. 
> 
> P.S. apologies for any discrepancies in my adaption, I tried to catch them all when re-writing.


	2. 2. Way Down We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But when Clarke was looking at her in the way she only ever did in Lexa’s fantasies, it was hard not to be selfish, it was hard not to indulge just this once, and it was most certainly the one time Lexa wished she had followed her head and not her heart, because it might have just saved them from the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHUWUXlr-CM - Song for scene reference ;) 
> 
> P.S. I didn’t realise quite how hard it would be to adapt such a full story from one fandom to another, but I’m up for the challenge. Still in the spirit of keeping all the best parts, I have made an alteration in chapter one - Jake is alive.

For as long as she could remember, Lexa Woods had been in love with Clarke Griffin, granted, she hid those feelings well for the sake of her friendship. She imagined it, from time to time, the possibility of Clarke harbouring secret feelings for her as well, and the possibility of exploring those feelings together, had their dynamic not been one sided.

But’s that’s all they were, just far fetched fantasies that Lexa liked to indulge in. It helped to keep her oriented, grounded in her reality, because risking her friendship with Clarke was the last thing Lexa wanted to do. With Clarke, it was different, ever since Lexa was first introduced to Clarke when they were little girls, it was like everything she could remember before then was in black and white, but since that day, she finally started to see in colour.

Clarke was like sunshine on a rainy day, she made Lexa laugh, more than anyone else in the world. She stood up for Lexa when Lexa first started attending Arkadia high and was hazed as the ‘new kid,’ or made fun of for being home schooled, and attending boarding school, or for being the daughter of 'white privilege,' as some students called her.

That’s not to say Lexa couldn’t defend herself though, she could, very much so. She was independent, quick witted and hard headed most of the time, but sometimes she liked being saved, especially by Clarke.

There was just something about Clarke which captivated all of Lexa’s attention and mind the second she laid eyes upon the girl, and over the years, her feelings deepened for Clarke more than she could ever imagine, even though she knew they weren't reciprocated in the way she hoped they were, even though she knew Clarke didn't like her like that, at least not that they’d ever discussed.

Even though Clarke never looked at Lexa in  _that_  way, or thought of her in  _that_  way, Lexa still had hope. After all, it wasn’t like Clarke only swung one way. When Lexa had come out about being gay in the seventh grade, Clarke welcomed her with open arms, embracing Lexa for embracing her true self.

Lexa was lucky that her family and friends were so accepting of her, even if her mother was a little upset about the prospect of Lexa not having her grandchildren, to which Lexa dutifully reminded her mother that things such as sperm donors and surrogates exist. 

However, after hearing Raven’s coming out story, about how her family practically abandoned her and left her all alone in Arkadia, a little apprehension was warranted on Lexa's part.

Lexa had fooled around with other girls before, she had experimented some with both boys and girl to understand her sexuality before coming out. Even through all of that, there was no real connection, nothing breaking the border between the physical, and emotional.

Yet with Clarke, she had reached beyond the emotional, something she had never planned on, but something that just happened, something she welcomed whole heartedly. With Clarke, Lexa could never be selfish, even if that meant spending the rest of her life in silence. As long as she had Clarke, she was content, even if it were only just as ‘friends.’

Lexa never liked to think of herself as one to settle, her parents had taught her better than that. Her parents had taught her a lot of things, practically grilling her since she left the womb, setting her up to eventually lead the Woods Corporation. That’s what she got for being the daughter of high end business tycoon’s Annabeth and Grayson Woods. But in her friendship with Clarke, Lexa would settle, she would settle over and over again, her parents and their input be damned.

That’s not to say Lexa’s parents disliked Clarke, in fact they adored Clarke, practically everyone adored Clarke. If Lexa were honest, she couldn’t think of one person who could conjure a genuine reason for disliking Clarke at all. She was as likeable as they came.

Lexa suspects that Clarke and her family had played a monumental role in the decision her parents made when they set down permanent roots in Arkadia, particularly when they finally conceited to Lexa attending a normal public high school. That was a miraculous feat in itself. Being the daughter of such prestigious individuals, Lexa was homeschooled for the first few years of school, before being shipped off to boarding school interstate.

Somehow, Clarke and Lexa had made their friendship work throughout the years, even though for a majority of the time, they only really saw each other on the holidays. But their time together was precious, and Lexa’s parents soon discovered that there was nothing they could do to seperate the two girls. They were the original delinquents, as Clarke’s father liked to say, before the rest of the crew came about in the years following.

It wasn’t until half way through middle school, and after years of convincing, from Lexa and Clarke alike, that Lexa’s parents finally relented and allowed Lexa to attend the public school Clarke attended in Arkadia. That had also been the time her parents had cemented their stay in Arkadia, at least until Lexa had finished her senior year.

She never understood why they didn’t enrol her in a normal school in the first place, though it was probably due to the fact that her parents were snobs, kind and compassionate, but still snobs, and boarding school just seemed more prestigious, as though Lexa’s grades and education would be any different.

Sure Arkadia was the exact opposite of the boarding school Lexa used to attend, but the atmosphere was all round better in Arkadia, and Lexa had thrived more in the short year and a bit that she had spent at Arkadia High than in her entire time at boarding school.

Why they settled in Arkadia in the first place was beyond Lexa as well. She assumes it had something to do with the major mining business just outside of town. Either way, Lexa was eternally grateful for that as well, and for the fact that her parents needed a lawyer, one Jake Griffin to represent their case in attaining said mining resources. If it weren’t for those two small and seemingly insignificant points in time, the Griffin and Woods' family's never would have connected, and Lexa probably would never of had crossed paths with Clarke. The mere idea of that left her feeling hollow inside.

She tried to make sense of it, how she could possibly be so enamoured and enraptured by one person, her best friend no less. If her parent’s grilling taught her anything, it was to expect the unexpected, because “sometimes Lexa, things happen for a reason. We may not ever know what those reasons may be, but we need to trust that whatever does happen is meant to happen.”

Spoken like a true prophet, Lexa thought. But that had been her parents’ upbringing too, the values and morals her grandparents had instilled on their children, the same values that Lexa’s parents were trying to instill on her.

Lexa listened, but she never retained. Fate was something that people made for themselves, not something that people sat back and waited for on a silver platter, like following the recipe to a century old pastry dish. Nothing consequential or interesting ever happens from following the same old, preplanned recipe. Sometimes you have to stray from what’s expected, add a little extra salt, or a dash or pepper here and there.

Sometimes you have to stray from what’s meant to be your fate, sometimes you have to follow your heart and not your head. At least, that’s what Lexa believed, a sentiment she wished her parents would understand too. Yet, her parents understood the immediate and strong friendship she had formed with Clarke when her family first settled in Arkadia, and that was enough for Lexa.

In all their years as friends, there was never really time where Clarke was disappointed in Lexa, judged Lexa or ignored Lexa’s reach. Clarke had always made Lexa’s business her business, and her business Lexa’s business. The two were practically joined at the hip, like inseparable Siamese twins, but that was until Lexa happened to be in the middle of the corridor, watching one of the hardest things she’s ever had to watch.

In that moment, she had never felt further from away from Clarke, not even during her semesters away in boarding school. Clarke had been right there, right in front of her, yet she seemed infinitely far away.

Clarke Griffin rarely cried. Sure she cried when she broke her arm falling out of the cubby house Jake had built them when they were children, or when she split her head open from running into the bench top that one time. And she cried sometimes after visiting her father. Lexa would hold her close and brush away the tears as Clarke mourned for her father. Lexa couldn’t imagine the pain Clarke dealt with on a daily basis, knowing that whenever Clarke visited her father, she was visiting a stranger, the empty body of the man her father used to be.

While Lexa’s parents were harsh, and stricter than most, the idea of her mother or father looking at her without a trace of love, emotion or recognition made the tears begin to swell in her own eyes. Yet Clarke was strong, she was _so_ incredibly strong, and Lexa was endlessly in love with how strong Clarke was all the time, how she carried the pain so that no one else had to.

So, it was a rude awakening when Clarke cried so openly over Bellamy in the hallway, because _never_  had she _ever_ cried over something or someone so trivial as a boy. Her tactic was to hold it in, keeping it bottled up inside, insisting that she was fine as she though she thought she had something to prove.

The sight of seeing Clarke’s always radiant and emanating face twisted into hurt and betrayal had made Lexa’s heart ache, it made her toes curl and her fists clench in abandoned rage. It made her want to hurt the person who hurt Clarke.

Tear tracks had glistened on Clarke’s rosy cheeks as Lexa watched the confession fall from Bellamy’s lips, and before she knew what had happened, before she could reach for Clarke, the girl had vanished, no where to be seen while Bellamy had his head against the locker.

So Lexa did the one thing her mind and body could produce, she expelled her rage on Bellamy for being so stupid, for being so daft and willing to give up the greatest person on the planet. She couldn't even feel the sting in her hand once her palm connected with the flesh of Bellamy's face, something he surely felt like his life depended on it. All she felt was Clarke.

It made Lexa feel about as useless as a bottomless bucket when Clarke had ignored Lexa, keeping to herself as though her pain was a burden to everyone else when in reality, all Lexa wanted to do was take away that pain and bury it like she had for Clarke so many times before.

Lexa had tried everything she could think of to compel Clarke to not shut down and close in on everyone. She tried texting Clarke, calling Clarke, she spent nights in Clarke’s house, in Clarke’s room just waiting silently for Clarke to say anything, yet she never did. Clarke was just as stubborn as Lexa, and she had ignored everything and anything from everyone around her. Lexa had even asked Aden to help, the little brother that Clarke would take a bullet for, the little brother that Clarke could never deny, but even his efforts were about as uneventful as everyone else’s, even him Clarke had denied.

Clarke had completely closed herself off from everyone, even when Lexa waited for Clarke at her locker each day, and outside of her classes, hoping that Clarke might finally relent, each time without fail, Clarke would shrug away from her. It was excruciating to watch the girl she loved cry over someone not worth her tears, not worth her love or any millimetre of love her heart was capable of.

It was excruciating because they never hid from each other, never lied to each other, but something in Clarke had shifted that day, and she had become almost unrecognisable. Lexa empathised with Clarke on nearly every level. When Clarke cried, Lexa cried. When Clarke hurt, Lexa hurt. When Clarke was happy, Lexa was happy, it was just that simple. So seeing Clarke walk around the school with her head held low and eyes red and puffy, was like seeing an entirely different person, and it made Lexa an entirely different person.

While Lexa had never been fond of Bellamy or his intentions, Lexa at least hoped that Bellamy would have treated Clarke right, that he would have seen the prize in front of him, the worth in front of him. If Clarke was happy, that’s all that mattered, Lexa _could_ have and _would_ have tolerated Bellamy, perhaps even liked him one day.

Even that was a long shot though, if Lexa were honest. Lexa was aware of Bellamy’s tendencies which had followed him from Canada to Arkadia. Octavia had no shortage of stories on her brother, and yet, Clarke refused to see the darkness in him, Clarke only had room for hope in her heart, she only had room for the facade of the boy who charmed her, not the person underneath, and she had taken that leap of faith Lexa had warned her against.

Evidently, Clarke had learned the hard way that sometimes believing in people’s intention is not always enough, and not everyone deserves the luxury of faith, that sometimes the world only _is_ black and white, and not a puddle of something inbetween.

So there Lexa was, at Octavia’s house party on a Friday night, without her best friend. She knew Clarke had been invited, but she doubted the girl would even show, which was saying something considering it was Clarke, one of the most extroverted people on the planet, the girl who was fondly dubbed as 'Party Girl Griffin.'

Clarke’s absence was as noticeable as a bull in a China shop, and Lexa’s interest in the party was dwindling with each second that Clarke hadn’t appeared. She was about ready to leave, to finish her dancing, to say her goodbyes to her friends and head over to Clarke’s to spend the night. Even though she knew Clarke would still shy away, letting Clarke know that she was there was what mattered.

Her plans of ditching were spoiled however, when Octavia plead with Lexa to play just one more round beer pong. Her concentration or lack their of was menacing, and Lexa had ended up downing her fair share of drinks before Jasper threw the ping pong ball at her face out of exasperation, calling her “bad juju,” or something along those lines. It left Lexa having to finish off the rest of her side of the table, and Lexa was always a good sport.

Lexa had made her way, correction, stumbled her way inside when Harper pulled her onto the dance floor, saying that having another dance would take her mind off of things, particularly off Clarke. So, Lexa obliged, letting the bass of Lilianna Wilde’s ‘Grind Me Down’ fuel the rhythmic movement of her body.

She swayed to the music, losing herself in time as her body moved of it’s own accord, unaware of the presence behind her, watching her every move like a lioness watching it’s prey. Then she turned, saw that look of hunger in Clarke’s eyes and lost herself completely.

She smirked, admiring Clarke’s attire as her mind tried to process whether this was really Clarke, or another one of her fantasies. Sure that this was indeed real, she wondered, wondered how Bellamy could have been so moronic. If it were Lexa, she would have kept Clarke by her side, she would have waited for Clarke, always. No matter how long as it took, Clarke was worth it.

She would have made Clarke aware of how very special she was, whether it was in public or behind closed doors. She would have satisfied all of Clarke's needs and all of Clarke's desires, being everything she wanted, and everything she didn't even know she wanted. Lexa would have been hers, but that was only a fantasy.

Apparently the blonde didn’t seem to share the same sentimentality, and her confidence had suffered tremendously since Bellamy. Every time Lexa tried to remind her of her own worth, how special she was, and how lucky anyone would be to have her, Clarke blushed and denied it, ever so humble. But humble was light years away from what Clarke looked tonight.

Lexa arched her brow, and swung the styrofoam pirate sword sitting at her hip, leaving the end pointing at Clarke only mere inches from touching the blonde’s chest.

She muttered, "dance with me,” and Clarke fell, losing herself within the rhythm of the bass as Lexa had.

She wanted to be smart, she needed to be smart, to use her head and not her heart. But when Clarke was looking at her in the way she only ever did in Lexa’s fantasies, it was hard not to be selfish, it was hard not to indulge in the gift that was Clarke Griffin just this once. It was most certainly the one time Lexa wished she had followed her head and not her heart, because it might have just saved them from the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/constructive criticism appreciated :)


	3. 3. Someone to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She needed to know that this was real, as real for Clarke as it was for Lexa. They could go back, they could work it out if it weren’t, but this was the line Lexa was drawing. Lexa needed to be needed, needed to be wanted by Clarke just as much as Clarke needed to be wanted too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING* This chapter contains mature content. Also, since this was a section I had recently rewritten for the Supercorp version, I decided not to change too much on this smut scene since it’s fresh content regardless for those who haven’t read chapter 2 of the Supercorp adaption recently.

 “Dance with me.” 

Those three little words were all it took for Clarke to lose herself to the rhythm of the bass. Lexa had reached for her, pulled her closer by her hip and Clarke couldn’t help the gasp that fell from her lips at Lexa’s show of assertion.

Green eyes locked onto blue, like the forest meeting the sky. With only mere inches between them, their breath mixing between them, Clarke fell, harder and faster than she ever had before. Clarke senses were swarmed wit’s anything and everything that was Lexa Woods.

The way her brunette locks were waved perfectly, resting splayed around her shoulders beneath her lopsided pirate hat. The way her toned and nimble thighs were slifting around Clarke’s own for balance in those fishnet stockings, revealing her athletic and toned physique. The way her warm hand caressed Clarke’s back, and hEr other gently brushed Clarke’s blonde hair behind her ears.

Clarke was lost, astray and adrift in the forest of Lexa’s eyes, pulled in and guided by their intensity, leaving her wandering endlessly, grasping at Lexa to ground her and pull her back into reality again.

But reality was the furthest place she wanted to be right now, where everything mattered, where _this_ , where being selfish and having Lexa to herself for just one night mattered. Where her morals and values took precedence, preventing her from making what would become the biggest mistake of her life, reminding her that her friendship with Lexa was everything, was something she couldn’t risk or gamble, no matter how much she needed to _feel_ , needed to be _needed_ , needed to be _loved_.

And Lexa loved her, Lexa loved her so much. Lexa cherished her, adored her unequivocally. And Clarke loved her, Clarke loved her so much. Clarke cherished her and adored her unequivocally, that just for a second, it didn’t matter.

She shouldn’t, she most definitely shouldn’t, for the sake of everything she wanted to keep, everything she _needed_ to keep between them. But a second was all it took for Clarke fall harder and faster than she ever had before.

Clarke wasn’t a gambler, not on love, not on people’s feelings. But for once in her life, she acted on impulse and she gambled, consequences be damned.

* * *

Lexa saw, Lexa saw everything. Never had Clarke looked at her that way before, in fact, it was usually Lexa who gave Clarke that look every now and again, specifically to make her feel flustered, because a flustered Clarke was the best Clarke. But this was not the Clarke who she was staring at now, far from it.

This was a Clarke who knew what she wanted, who knew _who_ she wanted, a Clarke who took _what_ she wanted, consequences be damned.

And Lexa knew that she shouldn’t, for the sake of everything she wanted to keep, everything she _needed_ to keep between them. Because this wasn’t Clarke, at least not her Clarke. This was a Clarke who was hurting, a Clarke who was in pain, a Clarke who was confused and was grasping at straws. And Lexa saw that too, because she was grasping as well, grasping at whatever morals she had left to take Clarke home and fix her a warm hot chocolate before settling in for the night.

And Lexa knew that if she did this, and her worst nightmare came true, she wasn’t so sure she could forgive Clarke for that. Even more, she wasn’t so sure she could forgive herself. Because pretending with Clarke was something Lexa could _never_ do.

The bass of the music was but a distant echo in the background as Lexa followed Clarke’s every move, palms trailing over bodies as they grinded together in sync. Lexa could smell it, Clarke had been drinking, perhaps more than Lexa had, granted, Lexa had sobered up some since Clarke’s arrival, and Clarke was more of a lightweight.

She knew that this was Clarke’s way of blocking out the pain, of blocking out her feelings and inhibitions. Yet Clarke looked, by all other means, how she used to look before Bellamy, exquisitely beautiful, carefree, euphoric and confident. That was the Clarke which Lexa loved, that was _her_ Clarke.

Before she knew it, Clarke had grasped her arms and leaned in to whisper, with the tickle of her breath sending shivers down Lexa's spine. “Come with me.”

For only a moment, and a moment was all it took, did Lexa think that this was _her_ Clarke, that _her_ Clarke didn’t just need this, but wanted this as well, that _her_ Clarke wanted _her_. Lexa’s feet started moving automatically beneath her, those little words sending her spiralling down, down a pathway she knew she shouldn't venture, a pathway she had been trying to avoid.

Those three little words was all it took for her straws to fly out the door, and for her moves to become autonomic impulses. If Lexa hadn’t been so enraptured and fixated by the idea that her Clarke wanted her, and was so willingly leading her away up the stairs to the bedrooms, she would have stopped herself, she would have grasped the straws and stopped Clarke completely before they did do something she knew would be the beginning of the end.

But a moment was all it took.

Clarke pulled her through an open door, closing it immediately behind them, and locking it before Lexa could compose herself. In an instant, Clarke had pushed her against the door and kissed her, attacking her lips with a vigorous fervour.

Clarke’s body was hot, flushed against her own and she tasted faintly of vodka, vanilla coke and strawberries. It was by far the most turned on she had ever felt, the hottest she had ever felt with heat sparking from her core, emanating throughout her body, leaving her tingling with desire.

The kiss was everything she had dreamed of, everything she had fantasised about, and Clarke’s lips were so soft, sweet, and desperate against her own. She wanted the kiss to last for ever, she needed this feeling to last forever, but she needed to hear it from Clarke herself.

She needed to know that this was real, as real for Clarke as it was for Lexa. They could go back, they could work it out if it weren’t, but this was the line Lexa was drawing. Lexa needed to be needed, needed to be wanted by Clarke just as much as Clarke needed to be wanted too.

“Clarke…” Lexa breathed between kisses, mentally thumping herself for pulling away while the girl she loved pulled at her lips.

Clarke had pulled back slightly hazed and confused, her pupils blown and her hair ruffled. “Lexa, shut up and kiss me,” she commanded, and in an instant, her lips were back on Lexa’s and her tongue was brushing along Lexa’s lips, begging for entrance.

“Clarke, stop.” Lexa pulled away more forcefully, cradling Clarke’s face in her palms while blonde shot her an irritated look. “I need to know… are you sure about this?” Lexa asked hesitantly, biting her bottom lips.

“I want this, Lexa. What’s so hard to understand? I wouldn’t have brought you up here if I didn't.” Clarke responded sarcastically.

“You’ve been drinking.” Lexa quipped.

Clarke sighed. “Do I  _look_  drunk to you?” She asked pointedly.

Lexa contemplated for a minute. “No, but—“

“So you’re telling me you haven’t been thinking about this moment for years?” Clarke interrupted.

Lexa tensed. It wasn’t exactly as blunt as Clarke put it. Of course she wanted to ravish Clarke, and ruin her for anyone else, but she also wanted to make love to Clarke, and to love Clarke entirely, to show Clarke what it truly meant to love and be loved in return. This right here was far from what her fantasised first time with Clarke would be, far from the setting of drunken house party hookup while still mourning the loss of ajackass boyfriend.

But this, right here, this was real. Or so Lexa had been assured.

“You know I have,” was the best she came up with, scared that if she declined now, she might never get this chance again. “I just need to know if you want me, I need you to be sure.”

Clarke softened at Lexa’s confession and display of vulnerability, something that Lexa rarely ever did. She she took a step back, and marvelled at all of Lexa, and sensing how anxious and self conscious Lexa had become in a matter of seconds.

Then she leaned in, placing a gentle kiss against Lexa’s pouted lips. It was slow and innocent, how a first kiss should be. “Does this answer your question?” Clarke asked, whispering against Lexa’s lips.

A shiver ran down Lexa’s spine, and she nodded vehemently at Clarke. Slowly, Clarke began removing her wings, her halo, and her dress, slipping the material down and over her curvaceous figure, leaving her in just her undergarments.

Lexa gawked shamelessly. She wasn’t sure where to look, whether it be Clarke’s full hips, her ample and well rounded breasts, her long and shapely legs, or her lips, kiss swollen and pink tucked away beneath the bite of her teeth.

She had seen Clarke in a bikini before, countless times in fact, but this was different, this meant something different, and the atmosphere in the room was entirely different. There was something so fundamentally different about Clarke willingly undressing herself for Lexa in an intimate moment, staring at Lexa, just daring Lexa to reach out and touch her.

By the power of bodily persuasion, Lexa took a tentative step forward, resting her hands upon Clarke’s hips, admiring her toned and full figure. There was so much skin, so much milky unexplored skin that Lexa wanted to explore, that Lexa wanted to mark.

She watched the goosebumps rises along Clarke’s body as she gently brushed the pads of her thumbs along her hips. Diverting her eyes up and down Clarke’s exposed body, her gaze finally fell on Clarke’s kiss swollen lips. She released a nervous breath before moving in, capturing Clarke’s lips with her own.

Clarke moaned into her mouth, and Lexa back her into the bed, never breaking the kiss while her hands wandered around to the small of Clarke’s back, feeling a shudder beneath her hands. She traced the tiny dimples on either side of Clarke’s spine for a moment, then she went lower and rest her hands on Clarke’s ass before slipping her hands underneath her garments, and then she groped, pulling Clarke flush against her front.

Clarke squeaked through the kiss, the vibrations tickling Lexa’s lips enough that she had to pull away, and Clarke was grinning at her like Clarke does, not an ounce of seduction left, but rather adoration instead, the adoration that Lexa knew was mirrored in her own eyes as well.

Lexa bit her bottom lip, tracing her fingers along Clarke’s jaw line, trying to soothe her racing her. She leaned down to nibble along Clarke’s neck, directly over her pulse point, then down towards her collar bones. The blonde arched into the touch, allowing Lexa the access she desired as she pushed Clarke down and onto the bed.

Discarding her own clothes in the process, she crawled over Clarke and in between her legs, slotting one of her knees between the apex of Clarke’s thighs. Clarke moaned at the indirect contact, her hands coming to to rest on Lexa’s back. Lexa pushed harder, earning her a needy cry as she felt Clarke’s arousal begin to seep through her garments, and the wetness only increasing as she gradually applied more pressure.

She sucked overly hard on Clarke’s pulse point, darting her tongue out to lick at the inflamed flesh. Clarke gasped and canted upwards, brushing her covered chest against Lexa’s, sending a throbbing sensation straight to Lexa’s core.

“Please, Lexa,” Clarke moaned as she pushed her hips up in search of the much needed pressure that Lexa was denying her.

“Are you sure, Clarke?” Lexa asked again, just above a whisper this time as she traced her fingers along Clarke’s sternum, following the gooseflesh which rose beneath the pads of her fingers.

Clarke’s blue eyes pleaded with her desperately, and Lexa placed a gentle peck on Clarke's pouty lips, muttering a soft, “okay,” before licking a path atop them, then down the column of Clarke’s throat, past her sternum, and down to the swell of her covered breasts.

Clarke gripped the sheets beneath them, hard enough that her knuckles were visible white. Her breathing increased as Lexa’s tongue traced a torturous path along the small slopes of her breasts admiring their weight and size.

Lexa teased mercilessly until she heard a disgruntled groan, then she unclipped Clarke’s bra, and Clarke’s full breasts were revealed in all their perfection. She attached her mouth to a stiffened nipple, tracing her tongue along its peak while her hand came up to palm at the other, softly pulling and massaging the flesh.

Clarke whimpered beneath her, becoming pliable and putty underneath her hands and mouth. She began grinding herself harder against Lexa’s thigh, enjoying the feeling of friction between her garments and Lexa’s toned body. Lexa continued to worshipped Clarke’s breasts, and Clarke was sure that she might come on breast play alone.

“Please, Lex,” she gasped, “I’m so close.”

Reluctantly, Lexa detached herself, smirking at the small cry Clarke gave at the loss of pleasure. She crawled backwards down the bed and rested her hands along Clarke’s milky thighs, parting them to see a glimmering mess coating Clarke’s inner thighs. She trailed her hands up and down the milky flesh, gaging Clarke’s reaction on where she was most sensitive. The blonde had a particularly sensitive spot just by her groin on her left thigh and Lexa exploited that, eliciting a series of giggles which warmed her entire existence.

Lexa gazed up at Clarke through her parted legs. Clarke had her eyes firmly shut, slowly gyrating her hips in search of friction. Lexa placed her hand atop Clarke’s covered mound, resting her thumb gently on Clarke’s clit, applying just enough pressure to evoke another cry.

Then Lexa gave three tight circles of Clarke’s clit which sent the blonde jerking aggressively upwards, her hand covering her mouth to muffle a silent scream. Lexa eased Clarke back down onto the bed, running the pads of her fingers along Clarke’s outer lips.

“Lay back down for me, Clarke. I’ll make you feel better,” Lexa cooed.

She moved her hand up along Clarke’s body, reached and grasped onto Clarke’s breast. She lined herself with Clarke’s centre, darted her tongue out and took a tentative first lick of Clarke through her panties. Clarke muffled another cry through her hand, her other coming to tangle through Lexa’s brunette locks.

Swiftly, Lexa pulled Clarke’s ruined panties aside and enclosed her mouth around her, running her tongue up and down Clarke’s responsive, sensitive, and glistening centre. The blonde tried not to squirm, and tried not to scream, but it was a losing battle as Lexa’s tongue pushed her right to the edge, and kept her there in torment.

“You can be as loud as you want Clarke, no one will hear you over the music,” Lexa reassured, and with that, Clarke released an ungodly cry, her hips becoming uncontrollable underneath Lexa’s mouth.

She continued to lap steadily at Clarke’s centre, enjoying the musky taste of the girl while carefully avoiding right where Clarke wanted her most, keeping her on the brink of release. After a particularly aggressive pull of Clarke’s hands in her hair, Lexa circled a single digit lightly at Clarke’s entrance.

At Clarke’s whimper of approval, Lexa slowly inserted her finger, feeling Clarke’s tight, heated walls stretch and recoil around her. She began moving at a steady pace, adding a second finger once Clarke had adjusted. She kept pace with her mouth and her hand, watching the increasing rise and fall of Clarke’s chest.

She felt Clarke’s walls begin to constrict around her fingers as she brushed the pads of her fingers over Clarke's most sensitive spot. Clarke’s cries came louder, falling in a husky and guttural rhythm until her body fluttered in an unmistakable rhythm.

Eagerly, Lexa took Clarke’s swollen clit into her mouth, sucking with fervour until Clarke’s release arrived like a volcanic eruption. Her entire back arched off the bed, her stomach muscles were taunt with a coiled pressure, her hips were wedge against Lexa’s mouth and her thunderous cry faded into a silent scream. A flood came from her body, coating Lexa’s hand and mouth.

She lapped at eagerly at Clarke, coaxing her down from her almighty high, then crawled her way back up Clarke’s limp and exhausted body. She pulled the covers up and over them, covering Clarke completely as she settle atop Clarke’s bare chest, lightly running her fingers along Clarke’s stomach.

She could sense Clarke dozing off, but if she didn’t speak now, she was afraid she never would. “Clarke?” Lexa murmured.

In inaudible sound was returned in response.

“You know how I feel about you right?” Lexa began, and she could feel Clarke’s muscles tense beneath her hands.

“I’m afraid this will be just a one time thing and... it was amazing but... I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I don’t want to forget or pretend this ever happened because... I like you, Clarke, a lot, more than a lot. I need to know, is this real?” Lexa confessed anxiously, trying her best not to let the stiffened body beneath her deter her.

Clarke lifted her sleepy head to stare at Lexa with tired eyes. No words came out of her beautiful mouth, but she smiled, a sweet smile and kissed Lexa’s forehead. Lexa tried not to let the ache in her heart set in, she tried to remind herself that this was enough, at least for now, that things were okay, that _they_ were okay, that this was _real_.

She succumbed to her slumber shortly after, remembering the feel of Clarke’s fingers in her hair, Clare’s warm exhales fanning gently along her skin, and the steady beat of Clarke’s heart.

When she woke in the morning, tucked securely beneath the covers, Clarke was missing, but there was a cup of water on the bedside table, two Advil beside it and a sticky note which read, ‘feel better.’

Her parents questioned her, when she finally returned home later that afternoon after helping Octavia clean up the house before the Blake’s retuned from Bellamy’s away game. She answered the vaguely, give short sharp answers with no elaboration. Lexa was more concerned with her phone than anything else, or more accurately, the text thread she had with Clarke which had been unanswered since the morning.

Lexa browsed her string of unanswered messages, looking for a ‘seen’ notification to show that Clarke had received and read her messages. Instead, her chat sat in a state of limbo, neither read of delivered on Clarke’s end.

Lexa wondered whether her phone was going bonkers, but when a message to her mother successfully delivered, Lexa couldn’t help the feeling of her heart dropping from her chest. It was uncharacteristic for Clarke to not answer her phone. Usually she was speedy with her replies. When she wasn’t, usually it was because she was visiting her father in residential homes, or because she had become consumed with her painting.

There wasn’t much that could prevent Clarke from answering her phone, particularly since she was probably feeling just a crabby as Lexa was from going to bed dehydrated last night. But the fact that her messages hadn’t even delivered, that fact that this had occurred directly after their night together, after Lexa’s confession no less, it left a tight coolness in her chest, a coolness she wished she didn’t feel when pertaining to Clarke.

Sunday faired no better with Clarke’s disappearance, so Lexa tried to busy herself with homework, catching up on her maths and elective economics class. It was possibly the longest weekend Lexa could ever remember. She tried to not dwell on it or turn it into something bigger and emotional than it probably was.

She reminded herself that she would see Clarke at school, that she was just being clingy and dependant. She reminded herself that this was okay, that everything would be normal when she saw Clarke at school, and that it wouldn't feel like walking on eggs shells. Clarke would respect her, Clarke would talk to her, not discard her or try to ignore the fact that what happened _happened_ , Clarke could never.

Lexa remained optimistic and excited to see her best friend, practically buzzing with excitement when Monday arrived. That was until she felt heart be ripped from her chest.

She had decided to surprise Clarke with a bundle of Californian Poppies, the blonde’s favourite kind of flower because the vibrant orange reminded her of the sunset. And she had decided to surprise Clarke in third period when most of the sophomores were in maths class. The new substitute Mr. McCreary was unlikely to let any students out of class to wander during his first few weeks, and Mr Shumway was a cranky old man who _never_ let anyone out of his class.

Luckily, Lexa had an advantage as a woman, and would often over explain her need for a leave pass. The unsettled man handed a triumphant Lexa a leave pass. She acquired the flowers from her own locker and skipped her way down to corridor to where Clarke’s was so she could place the flowers inside with a little note attached.

She had almost reached the end of the corridor when she heard voices, or more accurately, _Clarke’s_ voice.

Carefully, Lexa followed the sound, peering around the corner of the hallway to where Clarke was standing, with her back facing Lexa and a remorseful Bellamy standing in front of her. She tried listening in, but the distance was too far to hear anything comprehensible over their hushed voices. She took a few deep breaths, pushing away her inner anxiety and that tight cool feeling that crept it’s way into her chest.

She reminded herself that things were okay, that _they_ were okay, that this was _real_ , and that Clarke was good. Clarke was good. Clarke was good.

She had successfully convinced herself and calmed her racing heart, gripping the flowers tightly in her hands. But that reassurance was shattered into oblivion the minute she saw Bellamy pull Clarke into a deep embrace.

Her heart stopped in her chest, plummeted down through her body, and right through the very floor she stood on. The pain she felt in that moment was insurmountable. She looked away, the sight too painful to see, the realisation to painful to admit. Then she turned, and ran down the corridor and into the teachers bathrooms where she knew she wouldn’t be found.

She was stuck there in time, feeling her heart be repetitively stepped on and crushed with each second more that she envisioned Bellamy holding Clarke, and the worst part was that Clarke let him. She sunk to the floor in agony, dropping the flowers from her grasp.

Perhaps it did mean nothing to Clarke after all, perhaps Lexa meant nothing to Clarke. Perhaps Clarke just needed to be needed, and Lexa was there, Lexa was _always_ there, and Clarke knew that.

She hated herself, she hated herself in that moment for being so gullible, for allowing herself to be used, for allowing herself and her feelings to be manipulated and contorted into whatever it was that Clarke needed from her. Whether it was love, affection, or to simply be fucked.

The ringing of the bell was enough to rip Lexa from her suspended state. She drew in large breaths of air, wiping furiously at the tears which adorned her cheeks. She picked up the flowers, and when she was sure that the hustle of students had passed, and that the hallways were empty once again, she exited, discarding the flowers into the first trash bin she saw, discarding them like Clarke had discarded her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Lexa’s POV this chapter - next chapter will be Clarke’s POV of things :) This is where the story starts to pick up and where I’ll be diverging further from the events in the Supercorp version.
> 
> Comments/constructive criticism appreciated :)


	4. 4. Let Me Down Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *CAUTION* Mentions of dementia - may be potentially triggering for any readers with familial experience in dementia/mental illness.
> 
> Clarke knew she wasn’t perfect, nobody was ever perfect. She had made mistakes before in her life, and done things she wished she hadn’t, and she knew that this was a mistake she should have never of made. She was afraid that this time, she had gone too far and that this mistake might cost them, that this mistake might cost her Lexa completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took longer. I’ve been binge re-watching Stranger Things and taking it easy because I injured my neck pretty badly at the gym. Here’s a long chapter in apology. I’d also just like to point out that whatever happens next in this story, it goes deeper than Lexa misinterpreting what happened at the end of last chapter - which I will hopefully explore better this time around. Also, these characters are not adults. They are teenagers, and teenage years are the most confusing in every aspect, particularly when you’re trying to find your identity. So, hopefully I have done better with this part of the story than I initially did in the Supercorp version. But please just keep in mind that the characters in this point in time are teenagers, and are bound to fuck up without intending to, even when all they want to do is what they think is the best for themselves and everyone. That being said, if there is anything you feel I should touch on more or anything I havent done well after reading this chapter, please let me know!  
> Otherwise, enjoy. xx

“Clarke honey, you’ve barely touched your food. Is everything alright?” Abby asked, ever the concerned mother of the year. Clarke rolled her eyes, digging her fork into the base of her pasta bowl, the pitched squeal sounding from the fork against the ceramic base causing her to wince slightly.

It was just Clarke’s luck, rather, it was ironic that her mother decided to finally take an interest in her life in the _exact_ moment Clarke wished she didn’t, in the exact moment that Clarke didn’t want her to, in the exact moment that Clarke just wanted to be left alone.

The universe sure had a wicked sense of humour, if you believe in those kinds of superstitions.

Raven was looking at her too with an odd expression, slurping up a few stray lengthy pasta straws which hung from her mouth. Clarke hadn’t spoken to Raven about the events of last night either, hoping that her uncanny silence would be aloof enough that she wouldn’t be bombarded with anymore questions.

Truthfully, Raven was far too hungover for most of the day to do anything other than sleep, let alone to question Clarke’s downcast and conflicted mood.

“Yeah, is everything okay, Clarkey? You’ve been off all day?” Raven mumbled incoherently.

Clarke shot Raven a pointed look, as if to say “shut up.” Raven glared back, challengingly.

“Did something happen last night, Clarke?” Her mother questioned again, her tone more assertive.

Clarke sighed, hoping her sustained silence and stiff demeanour would be answer enough for both her mother and Raven to take a hint. She had been actively trying to avoid thinking about what happened the previous night with Lexa. She had even gone as far to turn off her phone once she got home in the morning, knowing that Lexa would try to call her or text her, probably just to make sure she got home safely.

That thought alone made Clarke’s heart swell with adoration, but mostly sadness. Sadness in the sense that Lexa would have woken this morning with nothing but some pain killers and a note that read ‘feel better,’ while Clarke had woken up earlier in an effort to not be disturbed by anyone, especially Lexa. Sadness in the sense that while Clarke tried to pry herself away from Lexa’s sleeping arm draped over her body, Lexa only pulled her tighter, not wanting Clarke to leave.

But being in bed with Lexa was the last place Clarke needed to be in that moment. Ignoring Lexa was the absolute last thing Clarke wanted to do as well, yet for Clarke, it was necessary. Clarke needed to look after herself first, and looking after herself meant finding perspective and clarity on everything that happened, _everything_.

She could remember last night as though it were the present, as though she could feel the warmth coming from Lexa’s body when Lexa held her close, when Lexa kissed her, passionately yet gently, when Lexa’s warm hand caressed the side of face, and when Lexa uttered those last few words to her before sleep claimed them both.

_“I like you, Clarke, a lot, more than a lot. I need to know, is this real?”_

Yes Lexa, yes this is real, Clarke wanted to say. And God was it real. It was the most real Clarke had ever felt, more real than she had ever felt with Bellamy in their entire relationship, and that’s what frightened Clarke. The fact that she was having these feelings, these incredibly real feelings that she knew she shouldn’t have for Lexa because she promised herself she would never risk such a thing, not with Lexa.

For a while it had worked. Promising herself and avoiding certain situations helped to dampen Clarke’s inner most feelings. But she was having them anyways, and after last night, God did she want to _feel_ them, and she wanted to feel them for Lexa.

She wanted to feel them, and she embraced them, but a larger part of her _didn’t_ wan’t those feelings. A larger part of her didn’t want it to be real, because if she acknowledged and accepted just how real it was, then the possibility of losing Lexa altogether became infinitely more real as well.

And the worst part was, Clarke had convinced Lexa it was real. Lexa never would have done what she did had she thought it were not real. Lexa would have never of put Clarke in that position. Lexa took care of her more and considered her feelings more in the space of a few hours than Bellamy had in the entirety of their relationship.

And Clarke hated herself, she hated herself for doing that to Lexa, for being selfish and using Lexa in that way for reasons she was trying to decipher, for needing to be needed and needing to be loved so bad that she was willing to ruin everything.

She hated that she deceived Lexa and herself, convincing herself and Lexa that such a thing was okay, that _she_ was okay even though she far from it, that just for a second, it didn’t matter anymore. Only it did. Clarke still wasn’t okay, she was still healing, still trying to heal from Bellamy’s betrayal of the trust she placed in him, only to make the same mistake he had with the one person Clarke never wanted to hurt.

She would be alright without Bellamy, that much was obvious, but Clarke didn’t know if she would ever be okay without Lexa. There was too much invested between them for Clarke to ever want to let that go.

She hates that Lexa was vulnerable, as much as she had been, and in Clarke’s most selfish and clouded judgement, she had preyed on that vulnerability, and she had given into herself and her promise so that she could feel something again, so that she could feel what it was like to truly be loved, something that Bellamy could never truly provide, yet something Clarke knew Lexa could.

And oh how Lexa provided, and Clarke felt it, she felt every damn thing, all the passion and the affection that Lexa could give. But most of all, Clarke felt the guilt of having done what she did, having known too late the mistake she made and that the consequences of her actions were now completely out of her hands. Clarke was afraid that that kind of guilt would never end, so she ran, as fast as she could away from Octavia’s house just as the sun was peaking over the town.

Clarke knew she wasn’t perfect, nobody was ever perfect. She had made mistakes before in her life, and done things she wished she hadn’t, and she knew that this was a mistake she should have never of made. She was afraid that this time, she had gone too far and that this mistake might cost them, that this mistake might cost her Lexa completely.

If there was one thing above all else, it was that all she knew in that single night with Lexa, she had never felt more alive, and it was entirely because of Lexa.

The feeling was like a drug, and in the moment, Clarke was completely and utterly hooked. Entertaining the idea in her clarity that her and Lexa could be more was the last thing Clarke wanted to be doing for the sake of her sanity, because she knew that no matter how real it felt, how real Lexa felt, her answer would always be the same.

Clarke needed Lexa, _not_ the possibility of losing her, no matter how small that may be. She cared for Lexa, and she loved Lexa, deeply, she always would, but Clarke also loved herself, and she knew that she had to care for herself, she had to learn how to be okay first, how to move on, now more than ever, even if that meant giving up the one thing which made her feel more alive than she had ever felt before.

She could love Lexa, and she would continue to love Lexa, just not in the way she knew Lexa deserved, not in the way Lexa would want her to, at least not yet anyways. But sleeping with Lexa had just made everything all the more complicated, discovering that these feelings do exist within her, that they aren’t just hypothetical and are _very_ much real and for her best friend no less, made things _very_ complicated.

Sleeping with Lexa, and feeling the way she did was something Clarke would never regret, she would only regret that it took her until after they crossed the line that should not be crossed to realise it. It was just like Jake used to say, “sometimes the most important details are right there in front of you, and you will never see them, not unless they want to be seen.”

Why now of all times these details wanted to be seen and wanted to be felt was a mystery that would never be solved. But the line had been crossed, and many more had been crossed since, and Clarke only hoped that this time she hadn’t gone too far, that there was still room to back track.

Maybe they both needed perspective, and maybe the weekend away from Lexa would grant them both whatever it was they were searching for.

“Clarke? Clarke, I asked you a question,” came the displeasing tone of her mother, reverberating through her skull like an echo ricocheting through a perfectly acoustic tunnel.

Clarke snapped, dropping her fork in a clatter against the table.

“Yes, mother, I’m fine, and no, nothing happened last night. Can you drop it now?” She seethed through gritted teeth.

Clarke chose to return to ignoring her mother, focusing all her attention on twirling her pasta around in circles over and over in favour of eating it. Always playing with her food and never eating it, a habit she had picked up from Jake.

“Mom, what’s beer pong?” Aden asked innocently as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, his little legs swinging back and fourth on the large chair.

Clarke heard a clatter of cutlery, and she looked up to meet her mother’s fiery gaze, both women glaring with a matched ferocity. Raven had her head hung low bashfully, and Aden was looking between his family expectantly. He must have overheard Clarke’s very brief conversation with Raven earlier when she arrived home before Raven locked herself in her claimed bedroom in the Griffin household. Clarke was thankful that her mother was on call at the clinic over night.

Apparently, not thankful enough it seemed.

“Jesus Christ, Aden.” Clarke scolded her little brother, glaring at him too.

The little man receded in his chair with a pouty expression, his lower lip quivering.

“You were drinking last night, weren’t you,” Abby stated accusingly. “And who was here looking after Aden?”

Clarke sighed, resting her elbows upon the table to drop her head in her hands.

“Clarke Griffin, _answer_ me,” Abby spoke, her voice laced with a frightening quiet fury.

“Yeah, I drank last night,” Clarke admitted, waving her hands in dismissal.

“And Aden?” Abby questioned further, her eyes beginning to burn a bright red.

Clarke shook her head, stuttering on her response. “The house was locked the whole time, and I honestly didn’t plan on staying the night. It just kind of happened. I came home first thing before the sun was even up.”

Abby rose silently from her chair, her nostrils visibly flaring underneath the light of the chandelier above. “You left Aden alone the entire night? Give me your phone,” Abby demanded slowly, her demeanour still frighteningly clam.

Clark began to protest, but was rendered mute when Abby’s fist connected with the dinning table.

 “Just how _stupid_ are you, Clarke? You’re not even sixteen years old and you’re _drinking_? Is that _all_ you did? Or did you decide to take some drugs as well?” Abby near screamed, the arrival of her outburst causing a little Aden to start sobbing.

Clarke’s mouth was ajar as she tried to process her mother’s outburst. Very rarely did Abby Griffin break like that, granted, she was never really around in the first place, not for Clarke to see since Jake was relocated to residential living. But even before then, Abby was more of a happy-go-lucky kind of mother, rarely ever raising her voice at her children.

“Mom… you’re over reacting. Raven was there too,” Clarke tried reasoning, holding her hands out in surrender before scolding herself for throwing her friend under the bus.

Clarke felt a kick from underneath the table, and could see the frown Raven gave her in her peripheral vision.

“Am I, Clarke? _Am I?_ Do you know how many kids come into _my_ ER because of the shit they’ve taken and the shit they’ve drunk. Do you _want_ to end up like your father, Clarke? I lost him, God forbid I lose you too!” Abby wailed, her fist coming down to connect with the table top again. “And don’t you even think for a second that you can shift the blame onto Raven. _You_ are my daughter, and _you_ are Aden’s sister.”

Clarke sprung from her chair in rage, her chair flipping back in the process. “And _you_ are Aden’s mother!” Clarke shrieked. “If anyone should be taking care of him and tucking him in at night, it should be _you!_ And you know damn well that what happened to dad has _nothing_ to do with what I did last night. What happened to dad was just bad luck. But you wouldn’t know how it feels, because you’re _never_ fucking here. _I’m_ the one who visits him at the residential home, even though he never remembers me. _I’m_ the one who speaks with his treating doctor at the homes. _I’m_ the one who takes Aden for visitation, and _I’m_ the one who holds him when dad can’t remember him either. You’re brilliant fucking doctor, I’ll give you that. But you’re a terrible mother. You have no right at all to speak to me, or lecture me the way you just did. You lost that right when you stopped being the mother your children needed.”

Clarke slunk back down into her chair, her arms crossed protectively over her rapidly rising chest.

“I uh… I think I might head back next door for tonight,” Raven stuttered awkwardly over an ocean of laboured breathing. “If you guys need anything, I’ll be there,” she muttered, excusing herself from the table.

“Aden, buddy, wanna come with me? We can play Mario Cart?” She called, just as she was leaving the dining room.

Clarke gave her a small nod of appreciation as Raven carried Aden away in her arms, the little boy almost too big for Raven’s small frame to carry. She sat there in silence well after Raven and Aden had left, refusing to speak, refusing to even acknowledge her mothers existence.

It wasn’t until she heard Abby clear her throat that she was reminded that her mother was still in the room.

“Clarke,” Abby started carefully, “I know I’m not… I know I’m not always there for you, but-“

“You’re never here!” Clarke interrupted, “ _You_ are _never_ here.”

Abby sighed, bringing her hands together in a prayer form against her lips. “Clarke, please just listen. It’s been tough on all of us. You aren’t the only one living in pain like this, but what you did last night was unacceptable. You _cannot_ risk yourself like that. You’re a smart girl, so act like one.”

Clarke scoffed, shaking her head bemusedly. “More lectures. Don’t pretend like you care, like you’re some mother of the year. Because you’re not, you never will be. Even dad does a better job at parenting than you do and he’s not here anymore.”

Clarke knew that was a low blow, and she could see the hurt flash in her mother’s eyes almost immediately. Abby retracted, moving to stand behind her chair at the end of the table. “I will _always_ care about you, Clarke. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and Aden, and the pressure I’ve placed on you. I know I haven’t been there, I can admit that. But I am here now, and I will always come whenever you ask.”

“Whenever _I_ ask?” Clarke mocked incredulously. “I’ve been asking for months! I’ve been _begging_ you for months but _you are never here!”_ Clarke exclaimed, her voice breaking with emotion.

Abby moved forward from behind her chair, coming to Clarke’s trembling frame immediately. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, despite Clarke’s best efforts to push her away. Abby coaxed her with slow and gentle touches, brushing her hands through Clarke’s golden locks.

Eventually when Clarke settled in her mother’s arms, Abby started, “I need you to tell me what’s wrong, baby. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. I can’t help you if I don’t know and I want to help you Clarke, and you need help,” Abby whispered into Clarke’s temple, rocking Clarke slowly from where they had slumped on the floor.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s done,” Clarke sobbed.

Abby pulled her daughter closer. “It _does_ matter, sweetheart. All this anger you’ve directed at me, I know it’s not all for me. So tell me, what’s wrong. You can tell me, I want you to tell me, I want you to let it all out because I am here now. I am here, and you can tell me,” Abby coaxed further, hushing Clarke’s quiet sobs.

“I messed up, mom,” Clark caved, gripping Abby’s top in her hand. “Is that what you wanted to hear? That I messed up, that we’re all screw ups? At least I know who I get it from.”

Abby chuckled lightly, moving Clarke’s body backwards so she could grasp Clarke’s face, her thumbs gently wiping away at fallen tears. “Sweetie, you are so far from a screw up it’s not funny. Whatever you did, how ever badly you think you deserve to punish yourself, you don’t. You don’t deserve any of this, you never did.”

Clarke brought her own hands up and placed them on top of her mothers. “But I do deserve this,” Clarke objected tearfully, “I messed up so bad, mom.”

Abby consoled, “And it _will_ be okay.” She gently kissed Clarke’s forehead. “Whatever it is, it will be okay, _you_ will be okay. You are the strongest girl I know and I’m not just saying that because you’re my daughter. I’m saying it because you have done what I failed to do. You are strong Clarke, and whenever you want to talk to me, I promise I will be here waiting.”

“I hope you’re right,” Clarke sniffled into Abby’s top.

“I’m always right,” Abby whispered, “It’s my job to be right.”

Clarke doesn’t know how long she spent on the floor with her mother that night, only that it was long enough that by the time she stood up, she could no longer feel her legs. By the time she had settled into bed, turned her phone on and charged the device back up to the influx of missed calls and messages, she was fast asleep.

She opted to leave her phone be on the Sunday, deciding that seeing Lexa in person at school would be far better then some half arsed, meek apology for not responding. Besides, another day couldn’t hurt. She spent her Sunday morning revising unit content from Mr. Vinson’s Anatomy and Physiology class. The middle aged man couldn’t teach worth a damn, but he sure could generate some of the most useful study slides out of all the teachers at Arkadia.

Her Sunday afternoon was spent at the residential homes visiting her father. Abby had asked a fellow co-worker to cover her shift and had spent the morning helping Clarke revise her materials before joining Clarke and Aden on their weekly visit.

Clarke wanted to visit more often, she used to visit her father every day when he was first re-located into the homes, but after finding out her visitations upset him, Clarke was left shattered. She discovered that once a week seemed to be the perfect number as not to upset or confuse Jake. Sunday was the preferable day, because Clarke liked to take Jake for a walk around the garden while the rest of the residents played bingo and trivia, to the best of they ability.

Other times when she couldn’t make the Sunday, she would find Jake in his red leather chair, his favourite chair that Clarke had moved specifically to the residential homes, staring out the window watching as the cars drove past. He would do this for hours on end according to the nurses.

Clarke suspected he may have been waiting for something, or someone. Maybe there was still a little bit of her father in there, and he knew when Clarke couldn’t make the Sunday, so he waited for her instead. The nurses claimed his immobility and stagnation was simply the rapid progression of dementia, but Clarke always shuffled them away when they said such things. A girl has to have hope, even if just a little bit.

Sometimes, when Clarke was really lucky, a piece of her father would shine through, and for a second, only for a second, the man in front of her would smile at her in the way her father used to, the man in front of her became her father again. It was only for a second, but it was a second more that Clarke got to have with her father, it was a second more than Clarke had before.

By the time Monday had whirled around, Clarke was content, content that the space and distance she had created was enough time for her to feel as though she had gained perspective and clarity over her Lexa situation. As she walked the corridors of the school looking for Lexa, she reminded herself why she had settled on what she was about to do.

Lexa meant more to her than anyone, Lexa had quickly become Clarke’s focal point after her father slipped away inch by inch. But Lexa was a risk that Clarke didn’t want to take. Maybe if her father was still around, Clarke might have the courage to pursue something further, to explore the revelation of feelings she felt the night of the party, but visiting her father the previous day was only a reminder of what she served to lose if her and Lexa continued down a path of unfamiliarity.

Familiarity was safe, they were safe beneath their little bubble of familiarity, and thats where Clarke wanted to stay, safe with Lexa.

It was in third period when Clarke decided she would skip the rest of class to try and catch Lexa outside of her own before the flood of students made it impossible once again, having been unsuccessful in finding the brunette all day.

Octavia had assured Clarke that Lexa was present in her shared English Lit class the period before, and Lexa, like Clarke, always had her Maths line after English. She had made it as far as her locker to drop off her books when she heard footsteps behind her. Hopeful they might have been Lexa’s, she turned in excitement, only to be met with brown eyes instead of forrest.

“Clarke?” Bellamy spoke, and she would’ve recognised that voice anywhere, even if she hadn’t turned around.

Except now it didn’t have the familiar warmth to it. Now, it no longer left butterflies in her stomach, and no longer made her heart thump just a little harder than usual. Now it was a despondent, dejected, and guilt ridden kind of voice, not the usual bravado filled voice she likened Bellamy to. It didn’t suit well on him, Clarke thought.

The truth was, only two people had ever made Clarke feel that way, Lexa happened to be one of them, and Bellamy was the other. But Lexa was the only one of the two who made her feel empowered, who made her feel infinite.

Clarke ignored the pleading ache in Bellamy’s voice, tuning her attention towards analysing the contents of her locker, which really wasn’t all that exciting. She was able to block Bellamy out of her peripheral vision, focusing so hard that the little scowl that Lexa loved so much appeared in between her eyes, the one which made her look like Grumpy Cat. Lexa _really_  loved that look.

She must have read the spine of each book ten times in the time it took Bellamy to cautiously place his hand upon Clarke’s shoulder.

“Clarke? Clarke, please, please just listen,” he begged, his voice cracking with emotion.

Clarke all but whispered, not allowing any of the tears already forming in her eyes to fall as she turned to face the person who, a few days ago, broke her trust completely. “Talk. You have thirty seconds."

Bellamy began, “I miss you, every minute of every day, and I _know_ that I screwed things up, and I’m sorry. I have no excuse. I was an asshole and I ruined the greatest thing I could ever have. I’m trying to be better Clarke, and I  _want_  to be better. I didn’t realise how much I hated the person I was... hated the person I am until I lost you. I know what I lost and I know now that it hurts to be without you. I need you, because I don’t want to be this asshole anymore, and you are the only one who can make me a better person, the kind of person I want to be, someone who’s not the asshole.”

Clarke ran her hands through her hair in uncertainty. ”Bell… I’m not here to fix you, or make you a better person. That’s something you have to do on your own,” she sighed empathetically.

“I know that, and I’m working on it. That’s also why I’m here, to make it right and to show you that I _have_ changed and I’m not that asshole,” Bellamy defended.

Clarke removed Bellamy’s hand from her body slowly. “Bell, I know you think that you _have_ changed, and I can see you want to, and I want to be there for you, but I can’t be there for you like you want me to, not anymore.”

Bellamy’s eyes tinkled with a slight mist as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Please, Clarke. I messed up, and nothing can excuse that, but I promise you, I will spend every day making it up to you, if you can just give me the chance."

Clarke shook her head slowly, still feeling some residual affection for the seemingly broken boy before her. She gently took Bellamy’s hands in her own. “Bell I... I’m sorry. We gave it a try and it just wasn’t right-“

“Please, Clarke. One chance?” Bellamy persisted.

The short silence between them was deafening until Clarke eventually conceded. “Know this, I have forgiven you, and I care about you, but I don’t love you like that anymore. I trusted you with everything I had, and you broke that. I need to work on myself now too, and I need to find away to mend what _you_ broke. I’m sorry, but I promise I will be there for you, and I will support you because I really do believe that you want to be better.”

A single tear slipped down Bellamy’s cheek, and he pulled Clarke in for a hug, more of a consolation goodbye hug than anything. Clarke embraced him back, knowing that this was for the best, despite the residual ache she still felt. She told herself that she could trust Bellamy again, that she could support him and the person he wanted to be. She told herself that this was what’s best for her and Lexa, in how they can move forward where neither one of them is tied down nor conflicted.

She convinced herself that after this, everything could just go back to normal, that it could be like old times. If only she knew then what she knew now.

Clarke consoled Bellamyfor a few minutes, even after the bell went and the halls bustled with students, both of them completely oblivious to the brunette haired girl who had sprinted down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Clarke was content, content that this was an impossible situation made possible, that her forgiveness for Bellamy was more for herself, so she could learn how to be okay again, so that she could help herself to heal in a way that only she could do, even without Lexa.

* * *

**3:37pm Clarke:**

Hey Lex. I didn’t see you today, are you okay? Can we talk?

 

**4:02pm Clarke:**

Hey again. I know I’ve been radio silent all weekend, but trust me I can explain. I just really think we need to talk.

 

**4:49pm Clarke:**

If you’re busy I understand - just send me a text whenever you’re free to chat :)

 

**6:19pm Clarke:**

Okay, grumpy pants. I’m sorry for ignoring you, truly. I just really think we need to talk about what happened. So please text me, I’m not joking anymore. This is serious, grumpy cat serious.

 

Lexa threw her phone to the back of her bottom drawer. She spent her night clutching her pillow like a life line, the occasional mascara blended tear slipping down to stain her white silken sheets. She ignored the vibrations from her phone, signalling Clarke had opted to start calling her instead.

You’re three days too late, Lexa thought. She slept sleepless that night, remembering how it felt to have Clarke beneath her, to have Clarke wrapped around her, to have Clarke completely unravel before her. She remembered the way Clarke kissed her fervently, and then innocently, like it was the only kiss that mattered. She remembers the way Clarke begged her, and then kissed her forehead in silent reassurance.

She remembers every damn thing, and when before it made her feel empowered and infinite, it now left her feeling hollow inside, completely void of anything empowering or infinite. She had promised herself that she would be okay, that she could forgive herself and Clarke if Clarke had said no. But Clarke never did, Clarke dangled the candy infront of her, and when Lexa reached, Clarke caught her.

Clarke had told her “yes” over and over again until that was all that mattered, until Lexa was so consumed by her heart and her feelings that her mind didn’t matter anymore, no matter how much it told her to stop, until Lexa convinced herself that Clarke was true, and that Clarke wasn’t consumed by her own pain or hurt either. That’s the affect Clarke had on her, nothing was ever rational or made sense with Clarke, and Lexa knew Clarke knew that, she saw it in Clarke’s eyes the moment Lexa asked her. Clarke saw the power, she recognised the pull she had on Lexa, and she _still_ said “yes.”

Now left broken and battered, she spent her restless night thinking ungodly things about Bellamy, how if only he could have been the boyfriend Clarke trusted he was, none of this would ever of happened. Clarke would still be with Bellamy, happy and doe-eyed, but that was far better than the now. Lexa would rather that than the now.

But Lexa knew the blame was also on Clarke, and herself as well. There were no innocent parties involved. Lexa concluded on the notion that they were just three teenagers thrown into an impossible situation. There were no winners, but there always had to be a loser, and when grasping for those straws, Lexa had pulled the shortest, Lexa was just collateral damage.

She tried to be okay, and she tried to forgive both Clarke and herself in her downfall. She tried so hard, harder than she had ever tried before, but she failed. She could _never_ be okay knowing that Clarke didn’t choose her, that Clarke would never choose her for her own morals, even after having promised Lexa that it was okay, that she had chosen Lexa.

She could _never_ be okay knowing that Clarke only wanted _it_ , only to be needed and loved, but she didn’t want Lexa, at least not in the way she convinced Lexa she did, even after they had crossed that final line. And she could _never_ be okay knowing that Clarke had gone and forgiven the boy who was the catalyst to all of this fuckery.

Lexa never once expected a relationship, unlike Bellamy, Lexa never held any expectations, or pressured Clarke into anything. She left everything entirely up to choice, up to Clarke, and Clarke had chosen _yes_. What she did expect, however, was to be treated better than she was, more than just someone who was used simply because she was there and was convenient, because Clarke knew that Lexa would love her whole heartedly without question if she so much as asked.

Because that’s what she was, right? Trash. Clarke had seduced her, Clarke had left her, and Clarke had ignored her call, only to want Lexa when it was convenient for Clarke, when Clarke needed it, never once considering the way Lexa might feel. Again, Lexa wasn't naive to think it was all Clarke’s fault, and she would never shift the blame onto one person. She had played her part too, and consented like a big girl, and Lexa, amidst her affection for Clarke, had failed to see that Clarke was not okay no matter how much the girl claimed she was.

But at the end of the day, Clarke’s actions still stood higher above everything else, those actions spoke louder than her words, and those actions were that she had used and abused Lexa’s trust and love for her when she was hurting. And for what?

After that, Lexa knew that things couldn’t go back to how they were, no matter how much she wished they could, because Clarke’s actions would always be there, lingering in her mind like a parasite, reminding her of the worst once things started to get better. And she knew, no matter how much she thought she could before, that she couldn’t pretend like nothing ever happened. Lexa never want to pretend, not with Clarke or about Clarke. 

Lexa had managed to stay relatively elusive for the next few days, despite receiving Clarke’s increasingly concerned texts. Eventually Clarke’s texts stopped, around the time Lexa received a few from Raven, asking if she had been off school for the week. By the time Friday arrived, she decided to visit Clarke, so that their prolonged avoidance of each other wouldn’t cause any further irreparable damage, thats if there was anything left to damage.

While Lexa still felt the same as she did at the beginning of the week, she knew that she owed it to herself and to Clarke to hear things out, to gain a little peace of mind for herself. Who knows, talking with Clarke may even help to sway her stubborn mind set, and they might be able to established something between them where Lexa isn’t constantly reminded of both of their mistakes. It wouldn’t ever be the same as it was before, but it was worth a shot.

Lexa ventured to the art rooms on Friday afternoon where she knew Clarke would be working on her semester piece. Lexa saw her first through the glass window of the door, she still looked as radiant as ever.

Her golden locks were splayed over her shoulders, and there was a smudge of blue paint on her cheek as she slaved over her colour palette, mixing together a series of colours.

Lexa knocked on the door, harder than she would have liked. Clarke’s eyes immediately snapped up, and for a second Lexa saw relief flash across her face, but then her features stilled, becoming stoic and closed off.

“I think… Can we have that talk now?” Lexa asked, peeking her head through the door.

Clarke nodded, clearing off some of the mirky water jugs and brushed from her work station.

Lexa felt awkward, more awkward around Clarke than she ever had, but she reminded herself that this was necessary, if not for Clarke, but for her as well. She sat stiffly against the chair opposite Clarke, the atmosphere ever tense and formal, something completely unfamiliar between the pair.

Clarke’s cerulean hues sized her up, looking as though she had just as much to say as Lexa did, Lexa only hoped that the outcome of what was about to transpire could be civil.

“Nice painting,” Lexa commented awkwardly.

Clarke responded flatly. “Thanks.”

Lexa nodded, pursing her lips together. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, looking around the room everywhere except at Clarke who looked about ready to break.

Clarke huffed after what felt like years of silence. “Lex, I want us to be okay, I _need_ us to be okay. I’ve missed you,” Clarke admitted regretfully.

Lexa shook her head to herself, because truthfully, this was _not_ what she wanted to hear from Clarke.

“If you have something to say, Lex, then please say it. I’m all ears,” Clarke said, resting her elbows on the table.

Lexa finally looked at Clarke again, her expression hardened and heavy. “There are many things I would like to say to you, Clarke. But right now, in the spirit of getting everything out on the table, a part of me can’t stand to look at you without feeling… without feeling…” Lexa let her sentence trail, shaking her head to herself again.

Clarke seemed to catch on with where Lexa was headed. “Okay,” She spoke, her voice clipped, “getting all our cards out, I would like you to cut the shit and tell me how you _really_ feel. I want you to talk to me. We don’t do this, okay? We don’t shut each other out,” Clarke stated firmly.

“Oh, because you’re such a good role model,” Lexa clapped back before she could stop herself. “Because that’s what you do, isn’t it Clarke?” She said snidely. “If you ignore the problem long enough, maybe everyone else will ignore it too. I mean, you really set the example in talking to people, don’t you, Clarke?” Lexa scolded, quirking her brow and crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarke asked somewhat offended, slowly retracting her elbows from the table.

Lexa smiled cruelly to herself. “You know what, forget it,” she waved off. “I thought that maybe trying to talk might settle things, but it’s only pissing me off. I knew this would happen, I hoped it wouldn’t, but I _knew_ it would and it _fucking_ did. Maybe that makes me just as bad as you are, Clarke.”

Lexa pushed her chair away from the table, picking herself up to stride away before Clarke yanked at her arm from across the table.

“Hey!” Clarke called, yanking Lexa again so the brunette would look at her. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but you need to talk to me. Friends talk to each other.”

“Oh, is that what we are?” Lexa asked incredulously, now more distant than she had ever been.

Clarke pulled away in hurt, her eyes brimming with a misty fog. “Of course it is, Lexa. And as your friend I can see that you are hurting, so I need you to grow a pair and talk to me dammit!”

“Don’t fool yourself, Clarke. Friends don’t-“

Clarke interrupted, “friends don’t what, Lexa? Tell me.”

Lexa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you need me to spell it out for you? Friends don’t kiss each other the way you kissed me. They don’t have sex with each other, then throw each other away. Friends don’t use each other the way you used me. I deserve better than that Clarke,” Lexa ranted in a broken fury.

“Lexa… I would never-“ Clarke stuttered.

“But you _did_ , Clarke,” Lexa said cooly, scowling at the trembling blonde. “We had sex. You slept with me and for what? Revenge? Because you wanted to hurt Bellamy in the way he hurt you? Or was it more egotistical than that? Because you wanted to feel loved? Because you needed someone and couldn’t stand the thought of being alone again? You tell me, Clarke. What was it?”

Clarke trembled beneath the weight of Lexa’s harsh words. “Okay, you’re mad and you’re saying things you don’t mean, and that’s okay but-“

“Oh, I mean it, Clarke, I mean _every_ word. News flash, you had me from the beginning, you had me and my love, and then you kissed me, and you told me that you wanted me. Please tell me what _exactly_ I was meant to take away from that besides the fact that my best friend just _maybe_ feels the same way I do?” Lexa questioned pointedly.

Clarke stood there, her mouth ajar as she tried to formulate her response. Lexa just shook her head further at Clarke’s lack of response.

“I tried to talk to you, I tried so hard,” Lexa reasoned. “But you ignored me, and for the last week, you have pretended like nothing ever happened. I’m sorry Clarke, but I can’t do that. I gave you space and time, but I can’t pretend.”

Lexa turned around, ready to finally walk out before she said anything else that would hurt Clarke further. But a mop of blonde hair in her path stopped her, as Clarke’s smaller frame body blocked her from leaving.

“Fine. You want me to own up to my mistakes, like a big girl?” Clarke said sarcastically, glaring up at Lexa with a fiery blaze in her gaze. “Fine. We did it, we had sex. But I will _never_ admit to using you, or pretending like it never happened, because it didn’t mean-

“Didn’t mean what? Anything?” Lexa asked, cynically. “Because it meant something to me.”

Clarke defended, throwing her hands in the air. “Because it didn’t mean nothing. It meant something, it meant something to me, too! How could you possibly think otherwise?”

“Because your actions speak louder than your words.” Lexa responded bitterly. “You just left me there hanging on the edge while I waited for something, for _anything_ in response.”

“And what would you have liked me to say, Lexa?” Clarke asked, moving so she was chest to chest with the taller girl.

When Lexa remained silent, visibly gulping, Clarke continued, “I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to even begin to process what you told me.”

“You should have done a damn sight better than you did, us being _friends_ and all,” Lexa mocked. “You know I _never_ once expected you to say it back, I never expected anything from you other than to be treated fairly. Although, it would have been nice to have been accounted for, or at least acknowledged. I might not always be the best at showing them, but I do have feelings Clarke.”

“Of course I know you have feelings,” Clarke spoke incredulously, letting Lexa put some much needed space between them.

Lexa moved around the side of the table, putting more distance between them. She glared at Clarke from over the bench and responded tauntingly, “And yet, you disregarded them so _easily_ before.”

“ _That_ is not true.” Clarke defended again, her hands smacking down on the table in anger.

“Of course it is.” Lexa responded instantly with just as much anger. “I asked you, over and over again if you were sure. And _you_ wanted it, Clarke, you told me yourself, you just _didn’t_ want me.” She finished dejectedly.

Clarke’s demeanour softened, and she gazed at Lexa sadly. “Lex, I will _always_ want you. The whole reason we’re even in this mess is _because_ I care about you and _because_ I want you.”

“But you don’t,” Lexa said definitively. “You don’t want me, not in the way that I wanted you. You’re so blinded by your own morals, Clarke, but the line has been drawn, and this time it can’t be erased. It’s not that easy anymore. And if you truly do care, you have a funny way of showing it.”

“Okay, Lexa, clearly this is something bigger than the both of us,” Clarke tried, holding her arms out in surrender.

“You’re damn right it is,” Lexa responded with vigour. “And the _worst_ part is, I think you knew.”

“Excuse me?” Clarke staggered.

“You heard me,” Lexa snapped. “I think _all_ along, deep down you _knew_ how I felt. So you used me, because you _knew_ I would never say ‘no.’” Lexa continued, accusingly, “I know I’m not one of the good guys here, but at least I’m not a coward, at least I can admit to my faults and my feelings, and _at least_ I have the decency to not pretend like nothing ever happened.”

“Lexa…” Clarke whispered, the mist from her eyes having fallen into tiny droplets.

“Save it, Clarke, please,” Lexa replied despondently. “I can never pretend, not with you, and I will never regret what we did either. My only regret was that it was with you when you were vulnerable, and when I was vulnerable too. I _never_ wanted this, I only thought for a second that you might actually need me more than that. I was stupid enough to take the bait, to make the same mistake you did and risk it. We were both stupid,” she concluded, picking at the hem of her flannel.

Lexa moved to the doorway, Clarke not stopping her this time. She stopped herself just short, her fingers tapping away on the frame. “For the record, I don’t blame you either, anymore than I blame myself,” she said over her shoulder.

“But you hate me? Is that it?” Clarke questioned helplessly.

“I could never truly hate you, even if I tried,” Lexa chuckled distantly. “But I can’t stand to look at you without feeling the pain and betrayal that I know you felt when you found out Bellamy slept with someone else.”

“Lexa, please tell me how to fix this,” Clarke implored, clutching her hands together anxiously. “This can’t be it, we have to be able to fix this. I was scared, okay? I still am scared, but I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you too.“

“You were scared?” Lexa turned, her brows raised in disbelief. “No, thats not a good enough excuse. _I_ was the one who was scared. _I_ was absolutely terrified, not because you wouldn’t love me back, but because what if you did. I was prepared for you not to, for you to say ‘no.’ But I wasn’t prepared for this, for you to convince me you cared, convince me it was real, only for you to cast me aside as if loving me made you feel rotten and disgusted inside. I could have worked with you not loving me, I really could have, but I can’t work with this,” Lexa motioned between the two of them. “I’m sorry, Clarke, I never wanted this to end up how I did, but this… what we had, it’s gone. And I’m not sure if there’s anything left anymore.”

Lexa took one final lookat the girl in front of her, and no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't recognise the face before her. The eyes she loved to lose herself in had glassed over, now completely shattered and cracked beneath the surface. The smile Clarke always sprouted when around Lexa was wiped clean, her lips now trembled like her muscles had a mind of their own, and her usually warm expression was instead replaced with an atmosphere that was as dense and dismal as the depth of the deepest trench on earth.

And then, she left, as easily as Clarke had left her.

* * *

It took less than a second for Clarke to know that losing Lexa was different, that losing Lexa was nothing like losing Bellamy. As if she needed it to happen to know, she already knew.

Losing Bellamy was painful, and having her trust abused by Bellamy hurt even more, but watching Lexa walk away from her was an endless agony, and then some. At first, Clarke had assumed that Bellamy was what heart break felt like, that having her trust betrayed so deeply was what heart break felt like.

That was where she didn’t know, because losing Lexa was the true heart break, a kind of heart break which felt like her entire heart had been ripped out of her chest, arteries and all. A kind of heart break which felt never-ending, and consuming on every level as thought of moving forward seemed infinitely impossible.

Watching Lexa walk away from her that day had left a whole in her heart the size of Arkadia, and then some.

In the spirit of starting anew, and trying to be a better person, Bellamy had tried comforting her the following Monday, having not known what was wrong, but only wishing to be there for Clarke in moral support. When he did, it just didn’t feel the same. Bellamy was soft, warm and everything Clarke remembered he could be, he was trying, and Clarke was proud of him.

But there was an emptiness in her heart that Bellamy simply couldn’t fill, not anymore. Not even Raven could help her this time, nor Aden, nor Abby when Clarke came home that Friday afternoon, looking even less of a shell of the person she was when she discovered Bellamy had cheated on her. When her friends asked her to hang out at the park over the weekend, Clarke declined. When they invited her out to the movies on Saturday night, she cited stomach cramps. When they came knocking at her door on the Sunday, they were met with a despondent Raven, tentatively shuffling them away.

By the time Monday arrived, Clarke didn’t need to tell them anything. It was pretty obvious, the only person Clarke ever became this upset over was either her father or Lexa, and considering that Lexa had been absent from their group yet again, they assumed the latter.

Raven and Anya had taken Clarke to the ice cream parlour on Monday afternoon in attempt to lighten her mood up. They picked Aden up from pre-school on the way, and the silly little man had gotten chocolate fudge all over his little face. Usually Clarke would have been in hysterics, trying her best to wipe the chocolate mess from her brothers face, but the only thing she could feel was pain, an unbearable, excruciating pain, akin to the pain she felt the first time Jake Griffin said, “who are you?” to his own flesh and blood.

Neither Raven or Anya pushed Clarke to say anything, knowing that she would eventually open up when the time was right. Clarke stayed silent mostly, replaying her conversation with Lexa over and over, letting the pain of losing Lexa collide with her reality over and over again. The only times she did speak up was when she complained that her rainbow ice cream tasted bland. Clarke Griffin  _never_ complained about ice cream.

She didn’t give in though, despite how hopeless, bruised and battered she felt, Clarke Griffin was not a quitter, not now, not _ever_. She still had faith in her father, even when no one else on the planet did. That had to mean something, and Clarke was motivated as hell to make things right with Lexa, to show her that she wanted Lexa just as much as she needed her.

Because knowing now what she didn’t before, how it felt to lose Lexa, Clarke was willing to risk it over and over again until she convinced Lexa that it was real. Clarke needed to prove Lexa wrong, she needed to convince Lexa that she wanted her, that it meant something to her.

As Lexa told her, actions speak louder than words.

But most of all, Clarke needed to convince herself that a little risk was okay, that a little risk never hurt anyone, it was not taking the risk which hurt the most. But the one thing she would never do was lie, and in doing so, Clarke didn’t want to jeopardise her chance with Lexa further.

Her endeavours became harder than not, as Lexa had seemed to vanish after Monday passed by and had been seemingly gone with the wind for several weeks. Lexa seemed to be absent from all her classes, and even failed to show up for her debating team which Clarke knew she absolutely loved.

Debate was possibly Lexa’s favourite extra curricular activity at Arkadia, as she loved to demonstrate her prowess. Lexa had never failed to impress Clarke in how formal and professional she composed herself during debate competitions, even when she was just practicing on Clarke. It was something she had surely picked up from her parents, and it had given Clarke goosebumps every single time.

Clarke had almost begun to believe that Lexa might have left the school, until she caught sight of Lexa fiddling with some flyers on the pin board at the end of the corridor. A familiar flutter filled her heart, and Clarke couldn’t stop the sheepish grin forming on her face. Lexa hadn’t noticed Clarke at first, too busy pinning the flyers out in an organised presentation. Clarke admired her from afar, her brunette locks falling behind her ears, her sharp jawline as she eyed the level of her flyer, presumably making sure they were perfectly balance.

She looked, by any other standards, angelic, how Clarke remembered she looked. And for a second, Clarke forgot about everything, everything except how beautiful Lexa looked in that moment. But then the girl looked up, and that feeling drained from her body the second she saw the pain and anger still resonating within Lexa’s forest eyes.

If Lexa held her gaze just a little longer, she would’ve seen the guilt reciprocated in Clarke’s own. Apparently Lexa had opted for more than the silent treatment, not even sparing Clarke a second long glance.

A few more weeks went by like that, with Clarke stealing glances here and there whenever she saw Lexa. She told herself she would wait, that Lexa had given her time, and Clarke should respect Lexa, by giving her time as well until she didn’t see pain every time Lexa looked at her.

Baby steps, she reminded herself. Despite the last thing Lexa had said to her, Clarke still saw something there. She wouldn’t be putting herself through this excess pain if she didn’t. What tiny amount that was left was fragile, extremely fragile, like the flicker of flame that needs to be nurtured and guarded before it becomes a fiery torrent.

As the weeks went by without improvement, the hope began to subside, the flicker began to dim and the hollow feeling inside her chest only grew, and continued to grow each day she was without her Lexa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/constructive criticism appreciated :)


	5. 5. Before The Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They used to be so in sync together, and now they were so far out of sync, like Pluto orbiting the Sun. She wondered how drastically her thoughts and feelings about Clarke had shifted when she saw the blonde or even thought of her, how they were once so positive and hopeful, and now they were completely hopeless. She wondered how there was a time she would have done anything for Clarke, how she would have been anyone for Clarke, and now she couldn’t stand the idea of Clarke without feeling like she was going to break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, this is where this adaption will start to pick up, and I intend to reach the midway point of this story much sooner. I’ve planned out a lot more for this adaption so please, please, please tell me if there is anything you want me to do better or explore a little further before I move on. I can’t change anything people are unhappy with if I don’t know what you’re unhappy about. I write for you readers as much as I do myself.  
> As always, enjoy xx
> 
> P.S. I have made a few small changes in early chapters that have reoccured this chapter which shouldn't effect the direction of the story - maybe the consistency if people pick them up. But I shall remain silent on them ;)

_“Alexandria Woods!”_

Her mother’s shrill and displeasing tone rung throughout the household, echoing down the halls, ricocheting from wall to wall until it arrived in Lexa’s room. Lexa had expected it though, her mother’s reaction. Over the past couple weeks since that day in the art rooms, Lexa had been uncharacteristically absent from almost all of the classes she shared with Clarke and her friends, classes she could afford to miss as well as her extra curricular activities, all the while her parents had been none the wiser.

Expertly having filled in absence slips herself to hand into the front office, it was unlikely that the schools principal, Marcus Kane, would call up and interrogate Lexa’s parents even if he was slightly suspicious about the youthful scrawl upon the paperwork and the very vague excuses that accompanied the absences.

The mild mannered man was possibly the most passive and least confrontational individual Lexa had ever met in her life, and that was saying something, considering that Lexa had previously assumed Monty and Jasper to be the least confrontational and passive people.

As it turns out, thanks to their less than legal escapades, the pair were simply oblivious to most things, enough as not to have any qualms about _literally_ anything. Well, Jasper mostly. Monty spent most of his time filling in his clueless and catatonic friend, guiding him in the right direction, because “hugs not drugs,” was quite literally something the lanky boy needed to learn. Though he never did shy away from a hug.

It wasn’t often that Lexa was able to fool the intelligence that was her parents, but every so often she succeed. It became slightly more easier over the years as Lexa grew up, thanks to the years of home schooling and personal tutoring teaching her the art of independence at a very young age, and especially since, as she grew up, her parents started paying more attention to their business baby than their actual baby.

Even so, she knew there would be consequences for her actions, particularly since she had been snapping at the teachers, missed multiple tests, and was on the verge of letting her GPA and prospective scholarshipplummet. That was something that Principal Kane wouldn’t dismiss unfortunately.

Her parents weren’t necessarily the type of people to expect perfection from their daughter, given their social status and despite what people assumed. Lexa came from a very prestigious family. Her father Grayson Woods was on the Forbes top five-hundred list, having inherited the Woods Corporation and all it’s assets after Lexa’s grandfather passed.

In addition to inheriting the fortune five-hundred company, Grayson Woods was one of the most recognised entrepreneurs of the century, having expanded the Woods Corporation well beyond what Lexa’s grandfather had established and achieved in his reign. Grayson Woods was one of the most respected, feared, established and recognised business tycoons in the industry, having used his skills attained in his civil and industrial engineering degrees to guide his success in furthering the development of the country and his business.

His partner in crime, as Lexa liked to call them, was Annabeth Woods, a renowned corporate lawyer who legally represented the Woods Corporation, and headed it’s subsidiary law firm, Woods, Wallace and Queen Partners.

The media occasionally referred to the successful couple as the ‘dynamic duo,’ and there were very few individuals who took on the pair and came out unscathed, much less those who thought about it. Success was literally in her parents blood, as was their desire for greatness, and that’s all they ever wanted from Lexa, greatness.

Lexa had been brought up in a strict, no nonsense environment which nurtured her growth into the kind of person her parent’s wanted her to be, the kind of person to eventually take over the family inheritance. Yet never did they hold the expectation of perfection over Lexa. They provided the opportunities and avenues for Lexa, yet always allowed her to follow her own path, as long as it was a truthful and honest path untainted or misguided by the evil of the world.

Certain things, of course, Lexa had relatively no say in, such as her education. Even still, Lexa’s best was all her parent’s asked for, whatever and wherever that may be, and Lexa had proven her best to be right here in Arkadia, at least for a little while.

Disregard, dishonesty and ignorance was something not tolerated in the Wood’s household, and it was certainly something her parents steered clear of in their many lessons to their daughter. So lying to her parents, and hiding the fact that she had been lying and skipping school was something she knew they would never approve of, particularly the lying about lying part.

Her father always used to say, “if you want to be respected or trusted, you first must be honest,” and losing either of her parents respect or trust was something Lexa never wanted to gamble with.

But there was only so little Lexa could do when all she felt was anger and pain each time she saw Clarke hanging around her locker at school, not so subtly waiting for her, or hanging outside her classrooms too. There was quite literally nowhere Lexa could go without seeing Clarke and being reminded of that pain besides in her room where she knew Clarke couldn’t come.

It hadn’t stopped Clarke from trying though. Once the persistent blonde realised that Lexa had been absent for quite some time, she started visiting the Woods residence. Even that though came to a halt eventually, and Lexa wondered to herself how things had gotten so bad so fast, how she had been so close with Clarke for so long, and now she was millions of miles away, now, Clarke was a complete stranger and someone Lexa no longer recognised or understood, let alone wanted to be around.

They used to be so in sync together, and now they were so far out of sync, like Pluto orbiting the Sun. She wondered how drastically her thoughts and feelings about Clarke had shifted when she saw the blonde or even thought of her, how they were once so positive and hopeful, and now they were completely _hopeless_. She wondered how there was a time she would have done _anything_ for Clarke, how she would have been _anyone_ for Clarke, and now she couldn’t stand the idea of Clarke without feeling like she was going to break.

At least she was truthful to Clarke, she didn’t hate Clarke, she could never hate Clarke, but her feelings of pain and betrayal for Clarke were still stronger than ever, and right now, the only way Lexa knew how to cope with them was to remove herself from the environment completely, to not see Clarke at all until she was _okay_ , until she figured out how to be _okay_ with everything, and not feel as though she was shattering inside each time she saw a mop of blonde hair that could possibly be Clarke’s.

She was confident that eventually she would be okay, but these were feelings Lexa had never experienced before. It was all new and challenging, and right now she was fighting at it alone. Perhaps even distancing herself and severing her ties with Clarke, at least for the time being, might even help Lexa in her quest for happiness without Clarke.

Because that’s what she was trying to do, she was trying to learn how to be okay without Clarke in her life. Maybe in doing so, Lexa could learn how to be her best self without the presence of Clarke. There was no doubt that while having Clarke in her life, she felt as though she were already her best self.But now, it was about finding happiness in spite that Clarke was gone, it was about finding her best self in spite that Clarke was gone, it was about finding forgiveness instead of blame.

Only then, did she believe that she might just be okay.

Begrudgingly, Lexa shuffled her way out of her room, down the stairs and into the dining room where her mother sat, poised in a high rise seat which looked more like a throne than anything. Ever the image of royalty and privilege, Lexa thought. Perhaps if her parents had paid more attention to her in the first place, things wouldn’t have become so bad so quickly, and Lexa wouldn’t be spiralling, reaching desperately for anything to ground her.

As if to prove her point, her father was currently in Vancouver on a business trip, and Lexa could positively count on one hand the amount of times she had seen her mother this week.

It was then, that in the silence of the house, she noticed for the first time how lifeless and dull the house was without Clarke’s loud antics creating a ruckus every few seconds. The blonde certainly had a presence about her, one that Lexa couldn’t stand to be around, not anymore.

“Sit.” The words were sharp and cold, slicing through the air like a blade as Lexa approached the table. It was not too often that Lexa was on the receiving end of that tone, granted, she never gave her parents reason to use it with her. Usually this demeanour was reserved for business affairs.

Lexa gulped and tentatively raised her forest eyes to meet her mothers. In disturbing silence, Annabeth slid a piece of paper over to Lexa and spoke quietly and calmly, “read it, please.”

Lexa gulped again, then began, “Dear Mr. and Mrs. Woods, we regret to inform you of this matter, however, your child Miss Alexandria Woods has been marked absent from one or more of the following subjects/extra curricular activities on several seperate occasions; Physical Education, Debate, Mathematics, and Industry and Government. It has also been brought to the school’s attention that your daughter has failed to attend a Mathematics and Science test worth 20% of her grade. As you know, your daughter was a prospective candidate for a scholarship during her junior and senior years. We request and immediate appointment at your earliest convenience to discuss these matters, as such behaviour will not be tolerated. Sincerely, Principle Kane.”

Lexa placed the letter down slowly, and when her eyes met her mother’s for the second time, she found nothing but disappointment.

“Lexa,” her mother sighed in irritation, shaking her head, “do you care to explain what this letter is referring to?”

Lexa sunk back in her chair, remaining silent on the mater while doing her best to avoid her mothers disappointed gaze.

“ _Lexa_ ,” her mother spoke again, her voice commanding, cool and clipped. “When I ask you to do something, you do it, now tell me what this letter is about and why I have a dozen missed calls from Principal Kane in my voicemail box.”

Lexa sniffed, wiping away the light mist forming in her eyes. “It’s not like you’ll understand if I tell you.”

Lexa’s mother cocked her head sympathetically. “I thought you were doing well here, I thought you were happy here," she reasoned.

“Apparently not happy enough,” Lexa muttered under her breath, casting her gaze to the floor.

“Try me,” her mother said, her tone more encouraging. “I might surprise you.”

Lexa scoffed. “Why? Why should I? You and dad never seem to notice anyway, you spend more time at work than you do with me.”

Her mother’s breath hitched in her throat, and she unfolded her hands from her chest. “You might think otherwise, but I noticed the day you came home and locked yourself away, and I also noticed the tear marks on your pillow case,” she spoke softly, reaching for her daughters hand.

Against better judgement, Lexa gave in to the touch and turned towards her mother. “I noticed you’re not eating, and I noticed that you haven’t mentioned or seen Clarke in weeks, even though she’s been coming by the house. Now, I gave you time and space, hoping you might confide in me, but you didn’t, which I was okay with. But then I get a letter from your school, telling me you’re at risk of losing your scholarship candidacy that you worked _so_ hard for. So tell me, baby, what has you so upset?”

A few traitorous tears slipped over Lexa’s eyes, and she watched as her mothers resolve almost broke as she crumbled in her seat. Annabeth shuffled her chair closer to her daughter, wrapping her arms around Lexa, allowing her daughter to rest into her chest.

It was the first time in a long time that Lexa could remember receiving a hug like this from one of her parents, she just wished it were in better circumstances.

Lexa sniffled, “I was okay, I was doing okay until I wasn’t, and I didn’t realise how bad it had gotten. It just happened so fast.”

“What happened?” Her mother coaxed, threading her fingers through Lexa’shair in a calming gesture.

“I loved her, mum,” Lexa confessed, barely above a whisper, but Annabeth heard and her heart almost broke at the pain in her daughter’s voice. She didn’t need to ask to know who Lexa was talking about, so she continued threading her hands through Lexa’s hair, waiting for Lexa to continue of her own volition.

“I loved her, but it got so bad, it was so bad mum, and now I’ve lost her,” Lexa sobbed, her body shaking as Annabeth’s grip only tightened around her daughter.

“Is this what heart break feels like, mum?” Lexa asked, burying her head against her mother’s chest.

Annabeth chuckled softly, “this is what love feels like, little one. If it doesn’t hurt, you’re not doing it properly, or they aren’t the right person.”

In her mind, Lexa was glad she was able to finally release the weight she had been carrying, she was glad that someone else finally knew. But it also meant admitting that it were all true, and not just some terrible dream which part of her kept hoping for.

“Well it sucks,” Lexa commented flatly.

“Try being married for twenty years,” her mother quipped. “It will hurt until one day it doesn’t, you just need to find a way to accept the hurt. Until then, is there anything I can do?”

“Just hold me?” Lexa sobbed, letting the tears fall harder than they ever had before.

Lexa’s remaining absences and missed tests were thankfully taken care of after a generous amount of convincing from her mother, and a favour that she would attend the careers day for all the senior students closer to the end of the semester.

Despite one issue being fixed, it gave rise to a whole new other, Lexa had to start re-attending all her classes again if she didn’t want to lose her candidacy for a scholarship, more specifically, her classes with Clarke and Clarke’s friends. On top of that, she had to do two weeks of community service as punishment for her outbursts in her classes, which turned out to be helping the art students for their end of semester showcase presentation on the weekend before Thanksgiving week.

It was painful, working day in and day out for two weeks in and around Clarke and the other art students, helping them prepare as the beginning of Thanksgiving signalled the near end of semester. It was painful, on every single level, knowing that for afraction of a second, she finally had everything she ever wanted, she finally had the girl she wanted literally in her hands, and that there might have been the tiniest possibility that she wanted Lexa back, only to have that hope stripped from her grasp like a bandaid off a scab.

It was an endless agony knowing that she had had Clarke, only to lose her. It made her wish she never had Clarke in the first, just so she wouldn’t have to feel that pain every second of every day.

Despite her current situation, Lexa couldn’t deny that Clarke was the most talented artist of all the sophomore, junior and senior students.

Her artwork was otherwise ethereal and her skills unmatched, it made perfect sense that a majority of the pieces being set up for display were belonging to Clarke. Nevertheless, the last day of her community service eventually ticked by, and Lexa was given an early mark from community service given her intense work ethic the past two weeks.

Surprisingly, Clarke had kept her distance during classes, and in community service, as small as it had been, and she had kept her words to herself, moving in and around Lexa as quietly and awkwardly as Lexa had around her. Her looks were a different story, however, as Lexa could tell that Clarke was just itching to talk to her, but decided otherwise each time Lexa would give her a look that specifically said, ‘not yet.’

After collecting her belongings and packing her school bag on the last day, Lexa left the art rooms, cutting through the large art supply room to an adjacent corridor which led her to the front of the school where her mother was waiting. In her haste, she bumped into Clarke, her hands full of art supplies and blue paint which rivalled her eyes staining her finger tips.

Lexa’s breath hitched. It would have felt just like old times, if the stabbing pain in her chest didn’t return. She nodded respectfully before lightly brushing past Clarke, trying her best to avoid the desperate plea and begging in her former best friends eyes.

“ _Lexa_ ,” She heard her name in an aggravated sigh as Clarke followed her out into the corridor.

“ _Hey!_ Can you stop running away for two seconds and just look at me!” Clarke pled. Lexa couldn’t help but turn with a growl, letting her emotions get the better of her once again.

Clarke huffed out a “thank you,” before crossing her arms over her chest. “Lexa, please, this has gone on long enough. I’ve given you the time you clearly wanted, so can you please just talk to me. I’ve been more than patient with you.”

Lexa shook her head dismissively, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I had to attune my feelings to your time schedule,” Lexa commented flatly. “I have nothing to say to you, Clarke. I don’t know why you keep expecting I’ll just turn around and tell you I’m okay, that we’re okay. _I_ am not okay. _We_ are not okay, Clarke!” Lexa urged.

Clarke stood there staring at Lexa, her features scrunched up in pain. It was the first proper conversation they had had in two weeks, and Lexa wasn’t sure if she should run away now, or continue to stand there and cause both herself and Clarke more pain to deal with.

“Lexa, I can’t keep apologising to you,” Clarke spoke barely above a whisper.

Lexa scoffed in response, because never once had she asked for an apology from Clarke.

“I have done enough apologising for the _both_ of us,” Clarke gritted more assertively, “I know I messed up, I _really_ do, but I also know that our friendship-“ Clarke stopped the second she saw Lexa’s face twitch at her choice of words. She tried her best to ignore the plummeting of her heart into her stomach.

“I’ll rephrase,” she continued, “ _you_ mean more to me that anything, and I’m done giving you time. I am so done with everything. I can’t keep waiting around for something eventful to happen. So this is me making it happen. I _need_ to have you, Lexa. I _need_ to know you, at least somehow, even if it’s not mutual. I won’t let you go, I’m not risking you,” Clarke confessed, stepping closer towards Lexa.

Lexa avoided the blonde’s gaze and muttered, “You already did. It’s unlike you to always prioritise yourself in favour of others, but I guess you’ve become quite good at it with me. So forgive me, but your words mean very little to me right now, Clarke. It’s a cycle with you, just a constant cycle,” she continued, more to herself.

“What?” Clarke questioned pointedly, raising her brows.

Lexa chuckled cooly to herself. “You do the wrong thing, you apologise, then you expect everything to just be okay when you’re ready, without taking my feelings into consideration, without checking if I’m ready, yet again, because we’re what? _‘Best friends?’_ As though that’s a free pass to unlimited fuck ups? Your guilt tripping won’t work, not anymore.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped in shock and she stuttered, “my-my guilt tripping? You know what? I’m sick of this shit, of your ‘I, Lexa Woods, can do no wrong,’ attitude. I’m calling you out. You could have said ‘no,’ Lexa. I _never_ forced you.” Clarke snapped, throwing her hands up into the air in exasperation.

“Please, keep going,” Lexa encouraged amusedly.

Clarke continued, stepping closer to Lexa with each word. “You could have said ‘you know what? No thanks, not today, Clarke.’ But you didn’t. _You_ wanted it as much as me and you let me let you have your way with me. And you fucking loved it. If blaming me saves you all this regret, then so be it. I can live with that, as long as I get the chance to explain myself.”

Lexa stood her ground, matching Clarke’s intense glare. “ _You_ are delusional, Clarke, if you think that anything you say can and will change what you did and they way I feel about it,” Lexa spoke, her voice as cold as ice.

Clarke’s fury drained away into a defeated slouch the longer she tried to match Lexa's stubbornness. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Lexa,” she whispered, “you were the last person I ever wanted to hurt and when I realised I had hurt you, I panicked.”

“You didn’t want to hurt me?” Lexa repeated questioningly. “Didn’t want… to _hurt_  me,” she repeated again, still questioning the candour in Clarke’s words.

She took astep towards Clarke, both girls now within arms reach. “I’m pretty sure we’ve already covered that, because you’re so adamant about it,” Lexa spat with venom.

Clarke didn’t seem phased by Lexa's

retort at all, if anything she seemed relatively calm and poised. She just nodded, asking, “Okay then. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Lexa asked, placing her hand on her cocked hip.

 “That you loved me.” Clarke stated, matter of factly.

Lexa sighed, running her hand through her hair. “As if that was such a secret, Clarke.”

“You don’t just spring that on someone after sex,” Clarke clapped back instantly. “And _you_ wonder why _I_ panicked, why _I_ was scared. So why didn’t you tell me you loved me?” Clarke pressed, and Lexa was taken aback by the desperation in her voice. “Because that’s what friends do, Lexa, they talk and communicate, they don’t hide things and sit on them for years, watching as their feelings build up into an inevitable swell of regret and resentment.”

“Would it have made a difference if I did? Would you have finally loved me back?” Lexa asked expectantly, avoiding Clarke’s question.

Clarke narrowed her eyes and pressed again. “ _Why_ didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t resent you, nor have ever once regretted or resented my feelings towards you, _or_ what we did since that night. What I do regret is that I trusted you and that you used me, that I cared for you, that I _loved_ you when you could only love yourself. So tell me, how is that not in the category of hurting me?” Lexa questioned pointedly, expertly changing the topic once again. “Sorry, but it amazes me how daft you are, Clarke. You know I came to you, that Monday back at school. I wanted to do something special for you, so I got you those flowers you always used to stop at and admire by the gardens at the mall. I thought, ‘Clarke will love these, and maybe even, if I was lucky, Clarke might love me’. Even just a little bit, I would be okay with. But then I saw you there, you were with Bellamy.” Lexa's voice dropped an octave.

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Lexa gritted her teeth. “It doesn’t matter why I didn’t!” She snapped. “You would never of felt the same way, even if I _had_ told you,” Lexa stated, so sure of herself.

Clarke tilted her head. “How do you know that? Why are you always so quick to assume things?” Clarke asked accusingly.

Lexa smiled cynically, watching as Clarke’s look became more expectant the longer she took to reply. “It’s not an assumption, Clarke. I can see it in your eyes, even now. If you loved me I would’ve seen that too. If you loved me, you would have told me, instead of telling me a thousand and one different ways that you 'care' and 'need me.' You wouldn’t be looking pained right now, and you wouldn’t pity me or my feelings. I’ve known you long enough to tell when you _love_  someone, I just never happened to be that someone.”

Clarke stepped closer again, now even closer to Lexa. “Don’t you get it? You will always be enough for me, for anyone out there lucky enough to be with you or love you, whether _I_ love you like that or not. I feel, okay? I feel for you, a lot, but I don’t know how I feel, or what it is that I’m feeling, only that it’s real, and I’m still working on that-"

"A thousand and one different ways," Lexa repeated.

Clarke cleared her throat at Lexa's interruption. "All I know is that you were my best friend, and I needed you. I _still_  need you, a thousand and one different ways. So please... can we just work this out? You said you couldn’t stand the thought of looking at me without feeling pain or betrayal, well I can’t stand to live in a world not knowing you at all."

Lexa scoffed, “Yeah, it’s a little late for that mentality, Clarke. You made it pretty clear you needed me for all of ten minutes before you were all well and satisfied, then dropped off the face of the earth.”

Lexa sighed again, swiping her tongue across her lips. “You don’t get it, Clarke, you changed when you were with Bellamy. You became someone I barely recognised, and for what? So you could have his love? His approval? What you couldn’t see was that I already loved you, and despite you changing, I continued to love you.” Lexa confessed.

Clarke exhaled loudly, her eyes bluer than before, brimming with unshed tears at Lexa’s confession. When Clarke didn’t respond, Lexa turned to leave, only to be stopped by Clarke’s faint muttering. “And you still risked it. Despite everything, you still risked it.”

Lexa spared a glare over her shoulder. “And how was I supposed to know that you wouldn’t mean it? How was I supposed to know you were this selfish person hidden in disguise.”

“Selfish, huh?” Clarke questioned, her voice cracking as her eyes pooled, eerily reminiscent of that afternoon in the art rooms. The art rooms seemed to be a common place for the two of them, Lexa noted. This was the exact same response Lexa was actively trying to avoid.

Clarke may not have been her favourite person anymore, yet it didn’t hurt any less when she knew Clarke was hurting too, much more that she had been the one responsible for causing Clarke’s pain. Just another thing to add to her own suffering, Lexa thought.

“We all make mistakes, Lexa!” Clarke cried, once Lexa had started to walk away again, trying her best to keep pace with Lexa’s long strides. “How much longer are you going to punish me for mine?”

Lexa turned in an instant, causing Clarke to crash into her solid stance. “Punish... punishment?” She stuttered, shaking her head in utter disbelief. “ _This_  is not punishment. This is me doing whatever it is I have to do to make it through, whatever I have to do to be okay.”

“Maybe if you stopped walking away from me, we might _actually_ get somewhere,” Clarke defended.

“ _Stop!_ Just please stop.” Lexa brought her hand to the bridge of her nose, scolding herself for why she began to entertain this conversation in the first place when she knew the outcome. She took another step forward, now close enough that she could feel the warmth of Clarke’s breath, and smell the sweet scent of her perfume.

“Now listen to me, and listen closely,” she cautioned, “I don’t want your apologies anymore than you don’t want to give them. I don’t want your pity, and I don’t want… I don’t _want_. Please, I’ve already told you once, and I’ll tell you again, please respect that _I_ am not okay, that _we_ are not okay. I don’t like hurting you, I don’t _want_ to keep hurting you. So please don’t make me. Just leave me alone, please. I need time.”

Lexa turned for a final time, and this time, Clarke let her leave. The tiniest portion of her wanted to turn around and forgive Clarke unconditionally, it practically begged her to forgive Clarke, and to just let her have her best friend back. But the pain and hurt had clouded and over ridden almost everything pertaining to Clarke.

It was a fight or flight response, and Lexa had chosen flight, to flee in attempt to keep whatever was left of herself safe.

* * *

Once again, Clarke tried and failed miserably topiece herself back together following her second failed attempt at a talk with Lexa. Preparations for the semester showcase had been taking up a monumental amount of time in her schedule, leaving her tired and irritated most of the time. She rarely had time for anything other than school work, homework, and preparing for the semester showcasing.

She hadn’t tried seeking out or talking to Lexa since their run in the previous week. Slowly, Clarke began spiralling just as she had the first time, not that she had recovered from that whatsoever. Since losing Lexa for what felt like the second time, Clarke had began bottling everything up again.

Her flicker of hope for a chance at redemption was now completely extinguished and non-existent, and that hollow feeling inside her chest had riddled it’s way throughout her entire body. Clarke did the best she could, maintaining her workload with Thanksgiving encroaching and the semester having almost concluded, but the pain never left, and the work never became easier, despite the words of support she received from Raven and her family.

No amount of support from them could help her now. Clarke even began struggling with her visits to her father, finding that his diagnosis and deteriorating state was effecting her more and more the longer she was without Lexa.

Adjusting was the hardest part, Clarke decided. Just as it had been when her father was first diagnosed, and then moved to residential living. Adjusting to a way of life where Lexa was absent was the hardest part, and not having Lexa around felt unnatural, particularly when all Clarke wanted to do was just talk to her like she used to.

Just talking to Lexa used to help Clarke feel a million times better on particularly hard days, Lexa was always there and she always knew the right thing to say or do. But Clarke had abused Lexa’s trust in an unforgivable way. And now Clarke was left with just herself, a silently overflowing bottle.

It was a Saturday, the day following Lexa’s last of community service. It had been a particularly tiring day since all the showcasing students were asked to come in early on the Saturday morning. By the time the afternoon came when Clarke was released before she’d have to return again for the nights presentation, she wanted nothing more than to fall into Lexa’s arms and to take solace in the comfort of a strong embrace. Instead she had Raven, which wasn’t at all bad in comparison, but still, it wasn’t Lexa.

The ever observant Raven noticed immediately the frown on Clarke’s face as she was touching up the last of her makeup in the bathroom mirror. “You okay?” Raven asked sympathetically, matching Clarke’s frown.

Clarke eyed Raven from her reflection in the mirror, willing her eyes not to start watering only seconds after she had just finished her eye liner and mascara. She placed her hands on the edge of the bathroom sink and slouched, letting her chin droop down against her sternum.

“It’s just hard... I miss her and I can’t even tell her that I miss her,” Clarke confessed.

She heard movement, then felt Raven’s small hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I know. But you will be okay, and do you want to know how I know that?”

Clarke mumbled in response, and Raven took that as her cue to answer. “You are the strongest person I know, you always have been. That’s how I know you will be okay.”

Raven still didn’t have the full story about what happened, only bits and pieces, which was more than what everyone else had, and she knew not to pry on Clarke’s life. Although, Raven was smart, and she had worked out most of the details from her own observations. She knew to just continue to be there for Clarke in every way she could even though Clarke wasn’t budging, having even threatened a few times to talk some sense into Lexa.

But Clarke had protested, adamant that this was her issue with Lexa and no one else’s. Clarke doubts that Lexa’s pain was any less than hers, so losing more of her friends was not something that Clarke wanted for Lexa. If Lexa didn’t want Clarke, she could still have her friends, that was something at least.

A few times Clarke had to remind Raven to not be bias towards Lexa. The small Latina tried her best, but Clarke could tell that soon Raven’s best would give. She was a fierce little mother bear, and Clarke her cub.

There was also the fact that Raven’s girlfriend Anya had had her fair share of failed romances, and had been used, abused and cheated on. Clarke didn’t like to think she had used Lexa, even though Lexa had a different opinion, that would imply that the night between them was inconsequential, which it wasn’t.

But bringing that up so openly with Raven, and then in consequence Anya, would open up old wounds for the girl, and Clarke didn’t want Raven’s girlfriend of all people to think any less of the people Raven hung out with.

Although, that ship had most likely sailed, since Jasper had accidentally egged Anya’s car the first time Anya was introduced to everyone. In his defence, Jasper thought he was egging Raven’s car in revenge for Raven’s assault on his dirt buggy, and had just assumed the Latina had finally gotten herself a car.

Anya never spoke openly about it, but Clarke was sure she hated Jasper from then on, her actions and scowls were telling enough, and Clarke knew her well enough to know when she was truly scowling, or when her face muscles were relaxing in her natural resting bitch face. She swore she might have even heard Anya mutter something along the lines of, “I swear to God, I will spear that kid with my fork if he so much as breathes on me,” once or twice.

A larger reason was gnawing at Clarke though, as to why she had remained silent despite her friends bombarding her, one that frightened her to her core. The only thing she seemingly had left of Lexa was this secret. This secret between them was all that reminded Clarke that her friendship with Lexa was indeed real, and while this secret was the very thing which shattered her relationship with Lexa, it still meant that she had part of Lexa in some kind of capacity, a part which no one else had.

It almost felt sacred in the most unusual of ways, despite how much Lexa wanted nothing to do with Clarke, despite how cool and distant Lexa had been.

Then again, Clarke and Lexa had clicked the moment that they had met. Everything between them was epic and grand whether it was for the better or worse, and Clarke never had the experience of not knowing Lexa, or the person she was had they not clicked at all and never became friends. Clarke was still yet to meet that person, and she prayed to God that that day would never solidify into history.

So she continued to try and convince herself that having Raven and her words of support were enough, even though it clearly wasn’t. She would keep telling herself that until eventually she didn’t have to.

“Hypothetically,” Raven started, just as Clarke was checking her clutch for her female necessities, “and I’m not saying that you are, or that you aren’t. But hypothetically, if you loved Lexa, and she came to you one night, and you told her how you felt, and you happened to do _more_ than just _sit_ together, how do you think you would react? If you loved her, and found out that what happened didn’t necessarily mean nothing, but it didn’t mean what you were lead to believe, what you were assured of, how would you feel?”

Clarke pondered for a minute, sizing Raven and her stupidly smart logic up. “It would hurt wouldn’t it?” Raven prodded further, and Clarke nodded slowly.

“Just some food for thought, Griffin. Now get moving or else you’ll miss this showcase,” Raven urged, slapping Clarke on her way past.

* * *

Missing Clarke and loving Clarke was utterly exhausting, and Lexa found herself getting more and more miserable as the semester came to it’s end.

She had become so miserable that she had even begun to consider booking an appointment with the school’s councillor so she could vent away her feelings without feeling as though she was being scrutinised or judged.

The whole point of leaving boarding school was to create a new life in a new and better environment, a happier environment. Not to have the same troubles follow her around everywhere she went. It was though Lexa couldn’t catch a break.

The end of school semesters were meant to be fun, particularly theChristmas break. Lexa could remember the previous Christmas break vividly, because it was the year her and the Griffin family visited New York City while Lexa’s parents were overseas. Even Jake Griffin was still lucid enough then to go on holidays with his family.

It was the best Christmas Lexa had ever experienced, underneath the city lights, drinking hot cocoa with Clarke on the balcony of the small hotel they were staying at, steam rising from the pool waters below as her legs swung through the gaps of the railing. If Lexa had it any other way, she would have opted to spend every Christmas that way, if it was with Clarke, it wouldn’t matter because Lexa knew she would be okay.

She knew her feelings wouldn’t just evaporate over night, real feelings never did. She had been trying her best to keep them in check, her feelings of hurt and betrayal outweighing the small but constant care she had left for Clarke and her well being as well.

She absolutely hated leaving Clarke the way she did, in the state she did for the second time, particularly in a crucial part of the semester for the blonde. Every cell in her body screamed at her to turn around and comfort Clarke, but the love that still remained just wasn’t enough anymore, it was buried far too deep and without of reach.

Losing Clarke must have taken a bigger toll on her than she thought. While she wasn’t necessarily walking around sobbing, in public that was, she noticed it in other ways. She rarely smiled anymore, not even when Jasper would make himself the fool in chemistry class, or when Emori would openly display affection to the emotionally neutral and constipated Murphy in the cafeteria.

She had lost interest in activities she used to find fun when Clarke was around, even her grades, despite having her attendance up to par with all her classes, while not bad, were not as good as they were before she lost Clarke. Even when she woke in the morning, there was no surge of brilliance or joy of the day to be because it meant she would see Clarke. Lexa really missed that.

It was as though she was back at boarding school all over again, although this time, there was no one really who could save her.

Part of her was relieved that Clarke had finally taken the hint, but another part of her wasn’t. While she had finally gotten what she wanted, what she had asked from Clarke, she didn’t feel victorious at all. Usually Lexa would have returned home for Thanksgiving week, had she been at boarding school, or she would be texting Clarke, getting ready to visit her best friend the second she finished her Thanksgiving lunch with her parents.

Her parents didn’t seem to mind, because once again, their business baby came first, even holidays weren’t exceptions. But this year’s Thanksgiving was quiet, and Lexa found herself spending most of the week doing school work she had missed out on in her absences, or doing more work to receive extra credit so her marks would improve.

It was barely even a surprise by the time Thanksgiving break had finished and Lexa was back at school. But what came next certainly was a surprise, for everyone.

* * *

The nostalgia of Thanksgiving hit Clarke harder than expected this year. The night of the end of semester showcase was long and tedious, with most of the university scouts having taken interest in the graduating seniors. There were many who had taken an interest in Clarke’s artwork at a glance, but immediately lost interest in Clarke herself when they discovered she was a sophomore.

It wasn’t at all surprising though, sophomores were not the class of students that college scouts were after. Although there was one scout in particular from the New York Academy of Art school who had taken a keen interest in Clarke, and had spent the majority of the night talking to Clarke and giving her the scoop about college applications and the “do’s and don’t,” if you will.

At least all her hard work over the semester had paid off.

Clarke was thankful by the time Monday came, knowing that she wouldn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn for a new week of school, although thats about all she was thankful for because this year, it seemed, there simply wasn’t as much to be thankful for.

Sure having a family, having a house, warm clothes, food and running water were all things to be thankful for, but in terms of emotional needs, there was just about zilch to be thankful for. On Sunday afternoon, Clarke had went to visit her father with Aden like she usually did, except this time, her father had seemed to slip infinitely further away.

She had come around lunch time, hoping to catch her father for an early thanksgiving lunch when she couldn’t find Jake in his usual chair by the window in the lounging area. After searching the facility, she eventually found her father with the other residents, surrounded by the nurses and carers.

It was the first time Clarke had ever witnessed her father being spoon fed. The nurses said it had started during the week, when Jake was unable to hold the eating utensils in a way which allowed him to feed himself, as though his muscles began to forget how to work in tangent with his brain. Aden wasn’t as aware of his father’s circumstances as Clarke was, which was something at least, so he was still relatively chipper about seeing his father.

Clarke, not so much. Her father was deteriorating right before her eyes and there was nothing Clarke could do to stop it or slow it down. She had almost given in and called Lexa that day, wondering whether Lexa would even answer if she did.

Instead, she came home with Aden that afternoon and spent the night watching Power Rangers with her brother, something Jake used to do with the boy before Aden could even remember.

It was shattering for Clarke to think that such a small action led to such explosive consequences. If she knew then what she knew now, she would’ve done everything differently, she would have made sure that mistakes were not made and that lines were not crossed.

What hurt her even more, as if that was even possible at this stage was that Lexa had never told her the truth because Lexa was afraid that _she_ was not enough, as though she wasn’t good enough for someone like Clarke, she was afraid that Clarke wouldn’t and couldn’t love her back.

That tore Clarke’s heart to pieces. There was nothing that she could think of that she could have possibly done for Lexa to think that way, and she wanted nothing more than to scream from the mountain tops how important Lexa was, how much Lexa deserved to be loved by her and anyone who could show her the love she deserved. Yet Lexa had made that quite impossible.

Thinking about how differently things could have gone if Lexa had opened up long before their friendship became tainted actually made her smile for a change. Would they be in a committed relationship now? Would they be the soft couple who shared loving gazes at each, yet never told anyone about their hidden feelings? Would they have just remained friends, but allowed that door for something more to always be open whenever Clarke was ready too?

Just thinking about the possibilities made her feel light headed and exhilarated all at once, as the possibilities of what could have been were all Clarke had left at the moment, so she clung to them with as much will power as she could conjure, and thought that maybe next time she visited her father, even though he would never remember, she could tell him about how she finally had her own little mnemonic to explain the domino effect.

It was really quite simple, Lexa was her domino.

Maybe she could ask for a time machine too, that would be nice, that would solve all her problems. Clarke would definitely be thankful for one of those, but alas, the time to be thankful had passed, and new challenges were only just beginning to surface.

When Lexa said she needed time to be okay, Clarke didn’t realise how much time Lexa actually meant, or how far she was willing to go to be okay again. At first, she thought nothing of it, there wasn’t much to think about other than respecting Lexa’s wishes and not causing her more pain than she was already trying to battle.

Over the years, Lexa had told Clarke stories by the dozen of her times during boarding school, such as how her and an unnamed friend filled the school pool with hundreds of plastic balls for an April fools prank, or the time when Lexa and a different unnamed friend used security ropes and padlocks to conjoin and lock all the students bicycles in the school shed.

In all of her story telling, and Clarke loved Lexa’s story telling, even the stories of how Lexa explored her sexuality which ultimately helped Clarke come out to her parents, there were always a few key details Lexa left out from her stories, namely, who Lexa’s friends were in these stories before she came to Arkadia.

By all accounts, Lexa had lived a completely different life at boarding school and was surrounded by different kinds of people. There was a stark contrast between Lexa’s experiences in boarding school, and her experiences in Arkadia. Clarke had never anticipated that these experiences would eventually unite in the most unexpected way.

It was the time of year that many sophomores, juniors and seniors dreaded, the inevitable Career’s Day. Clarke had heard stories, even those stories had heard stories about how dull and anaemic the day was. Thankfully for Raven, it was the last year she would ever have to attend one of these days, unthankfully for Clarke, she was already dreading the day before she even left the house.

Each year, representatives from other schools, colleges, and successful business or franchise owners, would venture around the state, visiting all the high schools to give influential seminars about the importance of passion, dedication and determination in forging a successful career pathway. Then, at the end of all that garbage, they would get to the juicy details, the details they should have began and ended with, applications and application tips for schools, college and workforce positions.

The careers days up until that point were long and boring, full of bonding activities and motivational videos, which weren’t really that motivational, that always featured that same damn Coldplay song. This year, Clarke noticed Lexa’s mother make her appearance at the end of the day, giving a quick seminar about how to impress interviewers in interviews, and a quick rundown for all the aspiring seniors who wanted to work within the corporate sector, or those select few who were aspiring entrepreneurs.

Clarke was about ready for the uneventful day to end before the last speaker was welcomed upon the stage, an athletic and exotic looking girl who looked more like a Greek goddess than a private school girl. She was beautiful, otherworldly even, and Clarke wasn’t the only person who seemed more intrigued and attentive to this particular speaker.

Practically the entire sophomore to senior student body had perked up in their seats at the presence of this girl, and from the corner of her eye, Clarke had seen Lexa perk up as well, although Lexa’s body language was different. She looked less in awe of the girl, and more shocked at her presence, nervous if Clarke was particular. Even baffled would have been apt as well, and Clarke’s curiosity about this exquisite looking girl erupted through the very roof.

“Thankyou, Principal Kane for such as warm welcome,” the girl, Luna Rivers, as Principal Kane had introduced, spoke.

Even her voice was exotically beautiful, with the perfect amount of husk glazing over her words. If this girl wasn’t a walking Amazon, Clarke wasn’t sure what was. She looked, from Clarke’s artistic point of view, like the walking reincarnation of some revered Goddess, what with her wildy curly hair, unblemished and tanned skin, her full lips and high sculpted cheek bones leading to the most intense eyebrow game Clarke had ever seen.

Clarke couldn’t deny how simply unfair it was for someone to be born with such pristine and perfect genetics, nor could she deny the painful surge of jealousy either, as she noticed Lexa had become more settled and content the longer the girl spoke, her eyes glued to the girl like magnets. It hurt knowing that Lexa’s full attention was elsewhere, as though nothing else around Lexa even existed as she listened in and eyed the girl on stage with a seemingly growing attraction.

“Now I know it’s been a dreadfully long and boring day for you all,” Luna began, gaining a few chuckles and sounds of approval from the attentive audience, “So let me get right to it so we can all go home to Netflix and chill.”

The quip was lost over the teachers, and even Principal Kane as he looked around a bit befuddled as to why the study body were cackling and sniggering at the mention of an online streaming service.

“I’m here all the way from Colorado, representing the Mount Weather Academy Boarding School as this terms junior president. Sounds snobby I know,” Luna added, after receiving a few eye rolls and groans, “but let me work up to it.”

Clarke tried to listen, she tried to show this ethereal looking girl the respect she deserved, but she found the task infinitely impossible the moment she saw the connection and recognition emerge in Luna’s expression, and an unspoken conservation pass when her gaze skimmed over and locked onto Lexa’s position.

And when Clarke turned her attention towards Lexa, she saw a smirk form, the same kind of smirk Luna sported for a second before realising where she was and what she was doing. And that was the absolute kicker.

* * *

As Luna continued her seminar, Lexa’s smirk only grew.

She knew she recognised Luna, truthfully it had been ages since she had even thought about her life back at Mount Weather Academy, and the friends she left behind. For so long her mind had only really been occupied with thoughts about Clarke, so much so that everything else didn’t seem to matter as much.

Lexa had almost forgotten about Luna Rivers existence, the girl who was responsible for her first kiss, and the girl who was single handedly responsible for Lexa’s self discovery. If it weren’t for Principal Kane’s introduction, Lexa would have spent the better part of fifteen minutes trying to work out where she knew this girl from before failing miserably.

She was pleased to see that Luna had grown, _very_ much so. Puberty had done her well and she had sprouted upwards like a stork, she was possibly even taller than Lexa now. _And_ she had grown in _other_ areas too, areas that a red blooded lesbian female couldn’t help but appreciate.

Although, their relationship had always been like walking a tightrope, a sort of, will we won’t we kind of pretense. Luna was very flirty by nature, probably even more so now that she was almost a woman, and Lexa had happily returned Luna’s banter every chance she got while at boarding school.

Luna was possibly, and still is, one of the select few people who Lexa missed the most at first upon leaving boarding school, being one of the only people to make the experience bearable from the inside over the years.

While Clarke had been her saviour on the outside, Luna had been her saviour on the inside, and Lexa suspects that’s why they never went further than the kisses or the banter, because that respect and foundation had already been established. It didn’t stop Luna from trying though, and Lexa couldn’t deny that she was no longer that young and confused teenager at boarding school anymore.

Where Clarke had been an extroverted and social butterfly of a girl, Luna was an absolute firecracker of one. Where Clarke was slightly more reserved, and held an innocent and naive grace about her, Luna was sophisticated, yet practically screamed sex appeal. Where Clarke was more likely to _be_ dominated, Luna was more likely _to_ dominate.

There was something so starkly different and attractive about Luna, now that Lexa was a few years older than she had been, almost like she could see something she couldn’t see before.

 “Mount Weather Academy is notorious for the success of it’s alumni, and it’s reputable teaching methods, instilling qualities of confidence, respect, discipline and independence in all the young ladies that walk through our doors,” Luna continued, ever so formally.

As Lexa recalled, Luna was possibly also one of the only girls who could keep up with her during debate, even when at boarding school.

“This year, Mount Weather Academy has undergone one of it’s biggest academic, managerial and physical transformations since it’s establishment in 1842. At Mount Weather, we are a sisterhood, and we are extending an invitation for young ladies across the state who show the potential for these qualities, along with academic and endeavour excellence, to become a part of this sisterhood. With over five hundred success driven girls enrolled at Mount Weather, this year we are offering a new program for mid-year applications and potential scholarships for more determined girls wishing to attend, or even trial a week at Mount Weather. Complimentary living and resources will be provided of course.”

A few heads raised at that last piece of information, Lexa noticed, and she found herself genuinely curious as to how much Mount Weather had actually changed since she left, whether the school was in better hands than it had been left.

Not that Lexa would ever doubt Dante Wallace and his decision making processes, he was one of the most experienced barrister’s in the country, having even advised Lexa’s mother of all people on occasion. The man even had his own share in a law firm, a seat on the Woods Corp board, and had direct ancestral ties to the establishment of Mount Weather Academy.

There was little to suggest that Dante Wallace wasn’t an intelligent man, but his dutied decision in appointing his only son, Cage Wallace, as the Headmaster for Mount Weather after it’s previous Headmaster retired, was very much an unintelligent one. Lexa suspects it was a trial run for the man, to see if Cage Wallace was fit enough to eventually take his father’s place on the Woods Corporation’s board once Dante retired.

But the school was severely lacking within months of Cage’s appointment, which happened to be a contributing factor to the horrible experience Lexa had at the boarding school. So Lexa wondered whether this seemingly new and improved Mount Weather Academy had anything to do with and without Cage.

Lexa sat through the last few minutes of Luna’s speech, catching Luna catching her gaze on more than one occasion. It was clear that Luna had recognised her immediately, and had been a little more than shocked at seeing her face in the crowd.

She wondered how strange it must feel for Luna, to end up advertising Mount Weather to the same school which Lexa had come to upon leaving said boarding school, particularly since she and Lexa had a history.

Once Luna had finished and had respectfully taken her seat with the other student representatives from different schools, Principal Kane concluded the career’s day with a final message. By the time the bell rang, most of the students were already out of their seats and crowded around the tables at the back of the hall fighting over pamphlets.

Lexa, however, sat very calmly in her chair, her smirk back in full force as Luna approached her seated frame. The suspense of the moment was killing her, the closer Luna came, and in true Luna action, she took the seat diagonally behind Lexa.

Lexa smirked even harder to herself, feeling all giddy inside like a child in a candy store, and when Luna muttered a very soft but husky, “Hey there, Lexie,” Lexa swung herself over the back of the row of chairs and into Luna’s lap, wrapping her arms around Luna’s neck.

Luna hugged back with as much an enthusiasm as Lexa, both girls enjoying the embrace as the number of students left in the hall dwindled down to almost nothing.

“It’s so good to see you, Lexie,” Luna murmured into Lexa’s shoulder, and Lexa pulled her even closer.

“If you pull any tighter I’m going to turn blue,” Luna gagged, and Lexa bashfully let the girl again with a grin, slipping into the chair beside her.

Luna gave her warm smile, her gaze glazing over Lexa properly up close. “Well look at you, you got hot, Lexie,” Luna stated appreciatively. “You sure picked a nice little town to settle in to. Tell me, have any of these public school girls caught your attention?”

Lexa chuckled, dipping her head nervously as she brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “No, it’s uh, it’s complicated.”

Luna balked, her eyes going wide with surprise. “ _What?_  'It's complicated,' and no girlfriend to keep you company? I’m shocked at the audacity of these girls to leave you hanging like that. I was sure one of them would have snaffled you up the second you left.”

Lexa smiled sheepishly, trying not to let her mind wander to thoughts of Clarke. “Truthfully, I’ve had better days,” Lexa sighed.

“Anything to do with the pretty blonde staring you down over there,” Luna nodded, in the direction of where Clarke was lingering by the doors. “Or is she giving me the stink eye? I can’t tell.”

Lexa turned, and when she frowned, Clarke quickly looked away and wandered off with Raven who had been talking animatedly with Monty, supposedly both waiting for Clarke.

“She’s… complicated,” Lexa settled.

Luna pumped her brows dismissively before resting her elbow on the back of the chair and her head in her hand. She grinned toothily at Lexa. “I still can’t believe you’re actually here in front of me right now. I was positive I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

Lexa adjusted herself, copying Luna’s posture as she settled in her chair. “Aw”, she cooed, “are you going soft of me.”

Luna shrugged. “I missed you is all.”

Lexa scoffed humorously. “You mean you missed certain parts of me.”

Luna shook her head, toothy grin still adorning her face. “I have missed certain parts of you more than others, I’ll give you that,” she admitted, playing along with Lexa’s banter. “But I have missed all of you… you know I’ve always had a soft spot for you.”

Lexa smiled, feeling a spark of warmth at Luna’s confession, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. “So tell me,” she began, “tell me about this new and improved Mount Weather. It sounds fascinating.”

Luna sat upright in an instant, her expression excited as she began rattling off the latest lowdown of the academy. “I mean, what hasn’t happened since you left. Mount Weather has changed so much, Lexie, like you wouldn’t believe.”

“How so,” Lexa asked, intrigued.

“Well,” Luna began, splaying her hands for dramatic effect. “Ever since the shit show that was Cage Wallace being appointed Headmaster, it turns out he had been embezzling scholarship funds and tuition fees, and when Dante found out, he had Cage charged and arrested on campus almost immediately.”

Lexa’s jaw dropped in shock. She knew the place had been a shit show and poorly run, but she didn’t realise it had been _that_ bad. “He had his _own_ son arrested?” She asked incredulously. “Mom and dad never said anything.”

Luna shook her head rapidly, her brows near raised to her hair line. “Oh no, this was kept on the _low_ lowdown. They couldn’t risk having the reputation of Mount Weather destroyed, or the Wallace name tainted. I mean, can you _imagine_ the scandal that your parent’s company _and_ Mr. Wallace would face if it did? I only found out because Ontari over heard her mother on the phone to your parents and Dante Wallace one night. According to Ontari, the school was almost up for closure.”

Lexa sat in stunned silence, trying to process this new set of information. “So how is it still up and running?”

“Well, we were sure the school would close, but apparently Dante Wallace used his own funds to keep the school afloat, since all the money Cage stole was locked in frozen accounts,” Luna was quick to reply, sounding more relieved than Lexa had ever heard her sound.

“So who’s running the school now?” Lexa questioned curiously.

A wicked grin formed on Luna’s features as she spoke, “her name is Charmaine Diyoza.”

Lexa cackled, then stopped before she saw Luna’s unchanging expression. “That sounds made up,” Lexa stated.

Luna shook her head again. “It’s French or something. But since this new headmaster came in, the school has been better than ever. I can’t imagine Cage would be back anytime soon either, much more, I can’t imagine he’ll take his father’s place with your parents on the company’s board.”

“Dante Wallace still has plenty of good years left,” Lexa defended, always having been somewhat fond of the softly spoken older man. “I just don’t know why my parents never told me anything. It’s not like I would tell anyone.”

“Maybe they were embarrassed?” Luna suggested with a shrug. “I don’t know, Lexie. This whole ordeal has taken it’s toll on old Dante, even Costia’s parents are stressed beyond control and won’t stop talking about the future of the Woods Corporation and it’s stocks sector should this somehow get out."

"Sounds rough on just about everyone," Lexa sympathised, remembering Costia fondly as a sweet and bubbly girl who made Lexa’s last few months at boarding school somewhat bearable.

Luna nodded wearily before perking back up. "Really though, if there was ever time to be at Mount Weather, it’s now.”

“Is this you trying to lure me back into the lions den?” Lexa quipped.

Luna smiled bashfully. “Maybe. I have missed seeing your pretty face everyday.”

Until that moment, Lexa hadn’t exactly considered the idea of returning to boarding school, not ever. But maybe, just maybe, leaving Arkadia was exactly the kind of break Lexa needed. Being away from her parents was never the issue like it had been for some kids, not like it was for one of her old friends, Gaia, who had literally kicked her teacher blue in the heels from the distress of being dropped off and left by her parents one year. In fact, Lexa thrived when she was on her own thanks to the independence gained from her home tutoring.

So maybe, since there was nothing left in Arkadia holding her back, not since her monumental fallout with Clarke, perhaps moving back to boarding school might bring about exactly the kind of relief Lexa was so desperately searching for. Maybe this was the space and time she needed from Clarke to truly find herself and her happiness again.

And if she was honest, reconnecting with Luna also seemed appealing too. If there was one thing boarding school did right, it was how it upheld the value of sisterhood. Despite the horrors from the man who ran the place, the school was full of so many girls, like Lexa, who were only child’s looking for that feel of sisterhood too, if she didn’t include the snobs.

Even with how close Lexa had been with Clarke, she could never fully compare her relationship with Clarke and her friends as to it being like a sisterhood, that felt like an ill put comparison.

But maybe a proper sisterhood was what Lexa needed, one where things weren’t so complicated, and one where complicated feelings ceased to exist.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/constructive criticism appreciated :)
> 
> P.S. Sorry for the delay, I decided to re-write most of this chapter from scratch as opposed to changing bits here and there from the original. So here is a longish chapter in apology. My updates from now may take a bit longer because I’m in my very last semester of my bachelor’s degree (thank heavens). It is crazy full on and I’ve been writing graduate applications non stop (I got me an interview!). I also have normal assignment work and 11 weeks of placement, so there is literally no time at all to relax this semester. I will try to update when I can!


	6. 6. 50 Ways to Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small part of Lexa liked to believe that this was only the beginning of their story, that it was the end of their first chapter, and that there would be so many more chapters to come. Realistically though, Lexa knew that moving away was her drawing the final straw between them. No matter how they end up, at least Clarke would always know that she was loved, and that for one night, she had given herself to Lexa unconditionally, even if it did turn out to be a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for this! :( I will try and update again as soon as I can, but my graduate interview interstate has been confirmed and I have to organise a whole heap of requirements for that. I was also shortlisted for a second interview at another facility, so it’s crazy right now. On top of that I still have full time clinical placement and a few remaining assignments before I graduate. So I may not update again this month. I will try my best but no promises! An update will definitely come in September if I can’t get another one out this month!

One of the finer qualities Lexa had adopted from her parents over the years was her ability to think rationally and logically before making an informed decision. Of course sometimes she was spontaneous, because where was the fun in life without a little spontaneity every now and again. But ever since her reconnecting with Luna, the little seed of an idea that was going back to boarding school had evolved into a fully grown forrest, ecosystems, emergent layers and all.

It wasn’t just that the school seemed better now than it ever had before, it wasn’t just that Luna had made Lexa feel things she hadn’t felt since her fallout with Clarke, okay, maybe it was a little to do with that. While Lexa’s mind still reverted back to Clarke and what could have been had things not fallen apart, the warmth and connection she felt with Luna was the first time Lexa had felt like anything akin to that in a _long_ time. It was like the spark had been reignited, and that little fire in her gut was finally beginning to burn again.

It was as though she was coming up for a breath of fresh air, as though around Luna, Lexa didn’t need to convince herself that she would be okay, she simply knew she would be okay. And with every little text she received from Luna asking her how her day was, or what she was doing, learning how to be okay started to feel a whole lot easier and within reach than it had before.

But the truth was, the idea of moving back to boarding school had nothing to do with the people around her and how they made her feel, but more about herself, and the way Lexa started to feel about herself again, as though she actually deserved to be okay, as though she deserved to do something that was solely for her and her alone.

Lexa was home schooled because her parents had prevented her from going to private schools. Then Lexa attended boarding school because her parents wanted her to receive an education from one of the most prestigious schools in the country. Lexa came to Arkadia because Clarke had asked her to, granted, Lexa wanted to move as well to be closer to Clarke, but the idea was never hers to begin with.

If Lexa had never met Clarke, she would most likely still be attending Mount Weather Academy. In all these scenarios, the common factor was that Lexa neither had a decision, or she made her decision based on the feelings and consideration of the people around her, never once doing something solely for herself without needing to worry about those around her.

Whereas this idea of boarding school, while originating from Luna’s return, had evolved itself entirely from what Lexa wanted, entirely from what Lexa thought was best for her. That’s all Clarke had ever done, what she thought was the right thing for herself, and Lexa could never fault Clarke for that, she would never fault Clarke for that. In fact, she commended Clarke for standing up for what she believed in, and doing what made herself feel comfortable, in doing what she though was right. Lexa just hates the fact that in doing so, it was at her expense.

So why shouldn’t Lexa do something entirely for herself just this once, why shouldn’t she be a little selfish and do what she thought was the best thing for herself, despite what other people felt. Sometimes people need to be a little selfish in order to be okay, and right now, Lexa’s mental health was a fragile little creature, almost like an injured bird, needing to be nurtured and groomed until it could finally spread it’s wings again.

With less than a month before Christmas break, Lexa was leaning more and more towards sending in her application to Mount Weather for mid-year transfers, but there was still this little inkling of an emotion which swayed her to use her heart and not her head, even though using her heart was what ended her up in this mess to begin with.

She closed her laptop screen harder than necessary, wincing when she heard an uninvited _crack._ Her parents were down stairs, both of them, which was something to be marvelled at by itself. Lexa’s father had flown in from Vancouver the previous day, and was booked to travel to Washington DC before the weekend sometime.

With a desperately needed, and final surge of courage, she re-opened her laptop screen, hovering her mouse over the ‘submit application’ button for a moment before clicking it in a haste. The screen loaded, and then refreshed to a defaulted ‘thank you for submitting your application’ page.

Lexa released a breath she wasn’t even aware she was holding, then sent a quick text off to Luna, letting the girl know that if she doesn’t hear from Lexa in thirty minutes, to call the police and direct them to Lexa’s residence for a suspected homicide. 

She took what was left of her courage and silently made her way down the hallway, down the staircase, expertly avoiding that pesky stair which sounded like a dying cat, and into the family room where her parents were seated going over some legal documents. Her mother and father looked serious, too serious, way too serious for Lexa to come out of this unscathed.

She faltered, then went to back track, hoping that if she moved fast enough, her parents would never know she were there. But her father was certainly a very perceptive man with eyes on the front, sides and back of his head.

“Now why would you be trying to run away, Lexie?” He cooed playfully, his eyes unmoving from the paper in his hands while his glasses sat of the bridge of his nose.

Lexa clenched, then turned with a smile, a suspiciously large and inviting smile that her parents could no doubt see through. At her silence, her mother spared a glance from beneath her eyelids and raised her brows before returning to her documents, licking the tip of her finger to turn the next page. It was a look that Lexa recognised, a look that said, “you know your father doesn’t like to ask twice.” 

“H-hey, there… dad,” Lexa stuttered, rocking on her heels with her hands interlocked behind her back. She was still smiling, like a Cheshire cat, and nodding slightly, looking about as guilty as someone who had just incriminated themselves.

Grayson finally looked up from his paperwork, then eyed Lexa with an unreadable expression. He removed his glasses, placing them with perfect precision on the arm rest of the chair. His moves were calculated, and Lexa could feel the beginning of sweat droplets forming on the back of her neck.

“The last time you looked the way you do now, was when you broke that ornamental statue outside by the garden hedge when you were seven, then tried blaming it on the dog next door,” Grayson spoke, his words articulate and slow. “And do you remember what I told you next?” He asked.

Lexa gulped, feeling a flush creep it’s way through her face and up to her ears. “That… that the neighbours don’t have a dog,” Lexa said uneasily, recalling the memory clearly.

Her father studied Lexa, taking a steady sip from the contents of his scotch glass. “So what are you hiding this time?”

Lexa exhaled, then clasped her hands against her sternum, interlocking her fingers anxiously. “I’m not hiding anything. I actually came down here to tell you something,” Lexa reasoned, stepping cautiously forward.

Her father narrowed his eyes, prompting Lexa to continue. Her mother looked up fully then, taking interest in Lexa as well.

Part of Lexa wished her father was more of a father than a dictator at home, wished that every time she spoke with him, it wasn’t a formality and instead just a normal father daughter conversation, as though he actually took an interest in his daughters life.

It had always been like that though, and if Lexa were honest, she barely even knew her father, and she was sure that he barely even knew her, what with all the birthdays, Thanksgivings and Christmases he had missed while Lexa grew up. Grayson knew who his little girl was once upon a time, but Lexa was no longer his little girl.

Sure he spoiled Lexa with expensive gifts and ridiculous presents for the time he missed, and would procure a souvenir every time he travelled internationally. But all the gifts in the world wouldn’t mean anything against spending an afternoon with her father, rugged up underneath her blanket while they watched soap operas and mocked the actors for their poor acting abilities.

Most of all, she hated that she felt awkward, nervous and uncomfortable around her father, as though he were probing her and questioning her all the time. If there was one thing a child should never feel, it was awkward and uncomfortable around their parents. It was as though her presence was an encroachment, it was as though the fact that Grayson was paying attention to her was an obligation and not because he was genuinely more interested in Lexa than his work.

Sometimes, Lexa couldn’t tell if he even did listen to her when she spoke, with how preoccupied and disinterested he was whenever they did interact.

Business baby, Lexa reminded herself.

“And what would that be?” He asked curiously.

Lexa eyed her mother, willing her to speak up and slice through the tension in the air, to tell her husband to take it easy and to stop interrogating her. But she was just as curious and expectant for Lexa’s answer as her husband was.

It was a band aid, Lexa told herself. Just rip it off.

She took an unsteady breath before nervously confessing, “so I just sent in my application for boarding school at Mount Weather again. I was afraid you would say ‘no,’ so before you could, I sent in the application. Please don’t be mad but I really think this will be good for me, considering how the school has a new headmaster now. And I also think that this should be my decision since I’m old enough now to make my own decisions with where I want to go to school,” Lexa finished in a huff, turning beet red in embarrassment once she gulped down a much needed breath of air.

Her mother sat there completely stoic, her mouth tightly bound as she eyed Lexa with an unreadable expression. Her father on the other hand, was rubbing his temple with what looked to be a frustrated and displeased expression. “Lexie,” he began with an exasperated sigh, “you came to Arkadia for a reason. You and Clarke begged your mother and I for _years_ to let you come here.”

Lexa stepped forward again, feeling a slight gusto at the mention of her friend, _former friend_ , or whatever the hell Clarke was nowadays. “I came here for _one_ reason only, and that reason doesn’t exist anymore,” she said flatly, eyeing her father as though this was something he should have known, had he taken an interest.

Her mother shot Lexa a warning look, and finally weighed in with her infamous displeasing tone. “Letting you come here wasn’t a decision we made lightly, young lady.”

“Yeah I know,” Lexa groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “God forbid the Woods name gets tarnished because your daughter wanted to attend a public school rather than some castle on a hill.”

A look of fury crossed her mother’s face and Lexa regretted her outburst the second the words left her mouth. “Your father and I chose Mount Weather because it’s one of the most reputable academies in the country. Because it was the school your great great great grandfather helped establish, because Mount Weather can open up so many doors, can provide you with so many more opportunities than a public school ever could. We only _ever_ wanted the best for you, thats why our decision wasn’t made lightly,” she spoke fiercely, yet passionately.

“So it shouldn’t be too difficult to let me go back then,” Lexa tried, unconvincingly and all too quickly. She bit her tongue, knowing her parents were the very last people she ever wanted to get snarky with, or talk back to.

Her parents were never big on physical discipline as Lexa grew up, mostly she was disciplined by the nanny’s or carers her parents employed whenever she stepped out of line, since they weren’t around. Though, whenever they were around and did discipline her, Lexa knew from experience that they were creative, cunning and conniving in their ways, making sure that Lexa knew to learn from her mistakes.

Her father chimed in, seemingly more open and understanding than Lexa had ever seen him. It was probably also the most engaging and interested Lexa had seen him in a long time. “Letting you run away from your problems and wanting the best for you are two very different things, Lexie. I thought you were happy here.”

“Yeah you and mum both,” Lexa quipped in distaste, remembering those as the exact words her mother had spoken not too long ago. She watched as her mother tensed in her chair, and continued, “and how could you of _all_ people in good conscious think that, dad? I’m not happy, but you’re never home to ask me, you just assume everything is _‘peachy_. _’_ My reason for being here doesn’t exist, my reason for being happy here doesn’t exist, and I feel like _this_ is the right time for me to make my own path as opposed to have you lay one down for me like I’m five years old again. I finally know what I want without wanting to fulfil _your_ expectations, I feel that I might finally be able to settle in at Mount Weather in a way I couldn’t before. I can finally be with the kind of people I should have been with all along.”

“And what kind of people are those?” Her father asked, cocking his head.

Lexa sported a sarcastic closed lipped smile. “Snobby rich kids who don’t care about anything other than their GPA. It’s perfect for me to focus on what really matters before graduation without all the additive distractions.”

Her parents shared a series of questioning gazes, having a wordless conversation through the air as Lexa looked on in anticipation, hoping her snark and the fact that she had let her emotions get the better of her again, hadn’t ruined her remaining opportunity to finally do something for herself and to finally be okay.

She saw her mother nod, then her father nod in response before he turned to Lexa, breathing in deeply before starting, “If this is what you really want… then we won’t stop you.”

Lexa’s heart leaped in her chest until the inevitable, “but,” came. There’s always a ‘but’ she thought.

“Once you make that call, that’s it. You have little over 2 years left before you graduate and that time will go by so quickly,” he reminded. “If this truly is your decision, if you think you are old enough to make this decision on your own, you need to be prepared for the consequences should this turn out to be a mistake.”

Lexa nodded. “It’s not a mistake… my application is already in and I’m ready,” she said confidently.

“I guess we need to make some arrangements then,” Grayson said, turning to his wife.

“Just please, finish off this semester without another absence,” Annabeth plead, before reaching for the cell phone on the glass table.

Lexa nodded in excitement before bounding away, taking the stairs two by two so she could get to her room quicker, call Luna, and tell her the good news. In her haste, she had almost called Clarke, her thumb stopping just above the ‘call’ button, hovering in uncertainty over her phone.

She let it hover, wondering if she should call Clarke, and tell Clarke herself, or not tell Clarke at all, _or_ risk Clarke finding out from someone else. Though the deed was done, and Clarke would find out either way, Lexa just wondered whether it was herself that Clarke should hear it from first.

She chose to call Luna instead, feeling a small twinge of guilt before it evaporated into the abyss of what had become Lexa’s forgotten feelings. It wasn’t too long ago Lexa wouldn’t have even hesitated in calling Clarke and telling her the exciting news, any exciting news, or just to call Clarke for the sake of it, because she missed hearing Clarke’s voice.

Now, she wasn’t so sure what she thought of Clarke. If she were honest, since Luna’s timely arrival back into her life, Lexa hadn’t really given Clarke that much thought at all. Her mind was otherwise occupied with Luna and the idea of boarding school. There was no innate desire to fix things with Clarke, as much as the idea of leaving Arkadia and everyone behind sat sour with her.

She realised that part of her maybe wasn’t so ready to say goodbye to everyone, at least not yet. Lexa had always been one for rationality, except when it came to Clarke. If anything, everything she did around the blonde was irrational. In this scenario, Lexa would lose either way. If she stayed, she would hurt, and if she left, she would still hurt, albeit not as much.

Lexa wished, for that reason, that things with Clarke weren’t so far from being okay. She certainly didn’t want to leave Arkadia on bad terms with anyone, especially not Clarke, because who knows what the future could hold. But Lexa also wasn’t so sure if time could fix the distance between them either, and she wasn’t so sure that she would voluntarily subject herself to the risk of being hurt again if it could.

In some weird and twisted way, even though everything had turned out for the worst, Lexa was glad that she was able to share at least one night with Clarke where Clarke knew how she felt. Even though Clarke had never said anything, even though Lexa was assured of something untrue, she was glad that she was able to call Clarke hers for at least one night, she was glad that underneath all of the bullshit, Clarke finally knew how Lexa felt, she knew that Lexa was true.

Their night together hadn’t been the first time Lexa had been with a girl, but it had been Clarke’s, and it had been Lexa’s first time with Clarke. Despite everything, Lexa would treasure that for as long as she lived. Something like that couldn’t be taken back, denied, forgotten or brushed away. She was glad that, on that night, Clarke would always know that her first time was with someone who loved her, someone who adored her, and someone who treasured her and recognised her worth.

A small part of Lexa liked to believe that this was only the beginning of their story, that it was the end of their first chapter, and that there would be so many more chapters to come. Realistically though, Lexa knew that moving away was her drawing the final straw between them. No matter how they end up, at least Clarke would always know that she was loved, and that for one night, she had given herself to Lexa unconditionally, even if it did turn out to be a lie.

But now in the present, Clarke wasn’t her problem, not anymore, and this was about Lexa, not about Clarke or anyone else.

* * *

When Lexa said she was old enough to make the decision about her education by herself, perhaps she was overestimating her ability, perhaps Lexa didn’t fully understand the consequences of her actions.

While moving away to boarding school was something Lexa still wanted to do, in the short while between submitting her application and receiving her acceptance, as Luna had virtually promised Lexa, Lexa began to realise all the little things she would miss when she moved away.

Like the friendly old lady down the street who seemed to be always outside tending to her garden, even when it was practically snowing. She would always offer Lexa banana bread each time Lexa passed, or the young couple across the road who always seemed to be tending to their child, giving the little human the attention that Lexa so wished she had received growing up.

Even some of the teachers and students Lexa would miss. Such as Mr. McCreary, who had been offered a full position as a gym and maths teacher. Lexa had built somewhat of a rapport with the gruff looking man, who had quickly become one of the funniest teachers Lexa had ever met once he settled in and became more confident in his teaching.

Lexa would miss Mr. Pike, the uptight and always knit-picking science teacher who seemed to spend more of his time making sure Jasper and Monty didn’t blow up the science lab than teaching an actual class. Lexa heard that his AP chemistry class with Raven Reyes was even worse, and he had a fire hydrant on stand by each lesson.

Lexa would miss Mr. Santiago, the charismatic drama teacher who would always give a cheerful “good morning” to just about every student he passed in the corridors. Lexa would especially miss Jasper, who, since her falling out with Clarke, would always offer Lexa hugs and some of his mother’s homemade cake. Lexa would miss Murphy, who could match her wit for wit during English class, and she would miss Monty who she occasionally worked with in mathematics on particularly difficult questions.

Lexa would miss Harper, even though she was notoriously shy most of the time, sometimes the small smile she would give Lexa in acknowledgement reminded Lexa that there were still good people in the world. Lexa would miss Emori, Murphy’s better half as they all called her, or Lexa’s partner in crime during gym class, as Lexa called her.

Lexa would miss just about everyone who had contributed one way or another to her life in Arkadia, and at the time, she hadn’t realised that in leaving behind her pain, she would also be leaving behind a world with everyone who had done their best to help her through the pain.

Most of all, Lexa would miss Clarke. She would miss _who_ they used to be to each other, _how_ they used to be with each other. She would miss the way Clarke was so effortlessly and thoughtlessly compassionate, grounded in her ways like the earth and the oceans. She would miss the Clarke who could be shy, and the Clarke who could be equally as confident and intimidating. She would miss the Clarke who was bright and radiant, with a personality to match the sun, not the Clarke she had known for the past weeks.

But Clarke could never know.

Her last few weeks were very nostalgic to say the least.

Though Clarke’s absence was filled with a different kind of desire. With Luna, Lexa felt the vulnerability and then some. She felt the danger, the dripping, intoxicating danger that came with her animalistic and untamed personality. Luna River’s was everything that Clarke wasn’t, she was exotically wild, driven and motivated by herself instead of others. Clarke was a leader in her own right, but Luna was fearless.

Where Clarke was pure, Luna was sinful. Where Clarke was the rain that fell from the sky, Luna was a blazingfirestorm, and Lexa _wanted_ to get burnt. Where Clarke was accepting, and meld into the form for other’s to wield as they pleased, Luna was defiant, Luna was the one wielding, not the one melding. Luna had brought an intensity to Lexa’s life that was desirable, and she was everything that Clarke wasn’t, and Lexa didn’t realise how much of a relief that felt until it had stood upon that stage during careers day, she didn’t realise how much she needed _different_.

Clarke and Luna were complete opposites in their own right, maybe that’s why Luna was so appealing, because there was nothing about her which reminded Lexa of Clarke, of the potential that once stood between the pair. Luna had brought Lexa out of her noxious state and back into reality, a pain free reality that she could forge herself and live herself.

Though Luna could never know that either.

“Have you told them yet?” Luna asked, her face in the little square box of the Skype application in the corner of Lexa’s screen.

Lexa looked up through the camera, averting her eyes from a set of calculus calculations she had been working on with Monty earlier in the day. She let out a long sigh and rested her head in the palms of her hands. “Not yet. I will, I just… it will be difficult.”

“Anymore difficult than leaving us?” Luna asked, and Lexa knew she was referring to the way Lexa seemed to vanish of the face of the Earth when she left Mount Weather to begin with. “I mean, at least you’re giving them the courtesy of telling them.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes, scowling at the little camera whole on her laptop. “Sorry,” Luna muttered. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you back in my life, but it hurt when you left without so much as a ‘goodbye.’ So no matter how difficult it may seem, know that you’re doing the right thing when you tell them,” Luna reasoned.

Lexa succumbed, nodding in agreement. “I guess. I’m just scared I might wake up and realise I’ve made a mistake. Cold feet I guess,”she shrugged, then turned her attention back to her almost finished homework.

Luna smiled sympathetically. “Well if I know anything about Lexa Woods, it’s that she is one of the smartest girls I know, and whatever decision she makes will be the right one for her. Others may not necessarily agree, but _you_ know what’s right for you, that’s why you’re doing this in the first place.”

Lexa smiled bashfully, brushing a few strands of loose hair behind her ears. “Thanks, Luna,”

Luna gave Lexa a cheeky grin. “Of course. You’ll do great in everything you pursue, Lexa, it’s in your blood.”

Lexa laughed heartily. “I guess you really have gotten soft,” she teased.

Luna sculpted her brow and angled her head in a playful threat. “I dare you to say that to my face in a weeks time, Woods.”

Lexa admired Luna’s confidence, it wasn’t as endearing as Clarke’s, but it was still something. Nostalgia, Lexa reminded herself.

As the last week of the semester eventually dribbled it’s way around the corner, Lexa was more excited than she had ever been about the prospect of attending Mount Weather again. Throughout the weekend, Luna had taken to opportunity to walk around the campus and take photos of the new and improved Mount Weather.

There were some things Lexa still recognised, like the large water fountain decorating the front of the school, the same water fountain that Ontari Queen had dared her to skinny dip in during the end of one painfully cold semester. Lexa would have preferred the lake, but hypothermia wasn’t so desirable, and the lake was all the way at the bottom of the mountain the school resided on.

The dorms still looked relatively the same, with a few changes here and there, like new doors, new bathrooms and a new paint scheme. Luna had even shown Lexa a picture of a new building under renovation which was supposedly meant for a larger intake of primary and middle school girls in the new year, something that the new head master had proposed to Dante Wallace.

There were a few new buildings Luna had shown that were full of state of the art classrooms, computer labs, science labs, and machinery and equipment for the prospective engineering alumni. The aquatic centre had been renovated as well, and there were a few more sports courts and an entirely new athletics track Lexa noted. Mount Weather had always been big supporters of sports, especially soccer, which happened to be Lexa’s favourite.

The new headmaster had also taken the initiative to have a few more entertainment rooms and common rooms for the rise in student numbers, and she had even had an elevator installed for students who were otherwise injured or who had mobility impairments. Lexa liked this Charmaine Diyoza already.

The school was otherwise exactly how Luna had put it, had undergone a massive transformation, and Lexa was excited to say the least. The school still had it’s authentic century and a half year old vibe to it, but it was modernised and far more appealing than it had been under the control of Cage Wallace.

Lexa was attentively flicking through the pictures of Mount Weather on her phone on the last Monday she would ever have at Arkadia when her locker door slammed shut with a forceful _bang,_ nearly catching her fingers in the metallic trap.

She had expected Clarke. She braced herself, because this was it, Clarke had found out and Clarke would be livid. Lexa still hadn’t told Clarke, rather, she told herself that she was working up to it. After Luna’s words over Skype, Lexa realised that not saying goodbye would ultimately hurt far more than saying goodbye, and if Lexa were honest, she was desperate for a final civil conversation with Clarke as a little reminder of who the girl she had loved was.

Who was she kidding though, she would love Clarke, even if those feelings were concealed and buried deep within her.

However, instead of Clarke, Lexa was met with a pair of brown beady eyes on a head much smaller than Clarke’s, and on a body much shorter than Clarke’s.

“Woods,” Raven nodded, her voice tight and clipped.

Lexa slid her phone into her pocket gingerly, well aware of how impulsive and uncontrollable Raven could be on occasion, especially when it came to defending Clarke. Raven was, possibly the only person since her falling out with Clarke, who hadn’t maintained a civilised friendship with Lexa.

Granted, the pair were only really friends by extension, as Lexa was with most of Clarke’s friends. Though they had all known each other from pre-school or middle school, and they had all grown up with each other, whereas Lexa was the outsider.

But they had all still maintained respect and some level of friendship with Lexa, just not Raven. Even Raven’s girlfriend Anya was more friendly towards Lexa, and Anya was _never_ friendly with anyone.

“Yes?” Lexa questioned, eyeing down the smaller girl, hoping that if she eyed Raven hard enough, she might intimidate the wild little thing. But Raven was anything but intimidated.

“Look, Woods,” Raven began, crossing her arms and leaning against the row of lockers, trying her best to seem intimidating despite her petite size. If Lexa were honest, it was working. “I like you, I always had, even since before you came to this hell hole. But I liked you because Clarke liked you, and I’m here to tell you as Clarke’s friend and not yours, that you need to stop.”

Lexa’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“This game you’re playing at,” Raven elaborated with a wave of her hand. “This little revenge scheme you have where you’re hell bent on hurting Clarke. Congratulations, you’ve done it. You’ve won, you’ve hurt her and she is _hurting_. And now it’s time to stop, because she isn’t the only person you will hurt if you continue what you’re doing.”

“And what _exactly_ do I need to stop?” Lexa asked pointedly, crossing her arms and squaring up to Raven.

Raven gave Lexa a knowing glare. “Clarke doesn’t know, and I pray to God she never has to find out because it will break her. I pray to God that you aren’t really this stupid and you will fix what you’ve done. Clarke is the strongest girl I know, and she has been bent and bent and bent, but you will break her, Lexa. So I am begging you, for Clarke’s sake, _stop_.”

Lexa ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. “I don’t know how _you_ of all people know, but my decision has nothing to do with Clarke, or some vendetta you _think_ I have against her. This is about me, for once, something is about _me_ ,” Lexa defended with a vigour.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Woods,” Raven quipped sarcastically. “Of course this has to do with Clarke. Everything you do has to do with her, your heart still beats for that girl, despite how much you think it doesn’t. I get it, okay? Clarke messed up, and she knows that. But guess what? She’s human, she will fuck up, and she will fuck up again and again _because_ she’s human. You aren’t a saint, Lexa, but you _are_ driven by your feelings, and you are governed by your emotions, and right now they are telling you to run and protect yourself. Am I right?”

Lexa swallowed thickly, as she stood towering over Raven’s small frame, willing her emotions not to get the better of her infront of Raven of all people.

“Look at yourself, Lexa,” Raven spoke, a little more calmly. “You’re trembling. And you’re trembling because you’re hurting, and you will only hurt more if you do this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Raven,” Lexa spoke cooly. “I’m not in pain for Clarke, or even with Clarke. I am in pain _because_ of Clarke. And I have forgiven her, for me, not for her, but for me. I appreciate that you love her so fiercely that you need to defend her, because she will need that. It’s her biggest flaw, needing to be loved, but I don’t blame her. With all she’s been through, she deserves to be loved, but I can’t be the one to give it to her while I’m still trying to fix what she broke. Clarke will break when I leave, but I’ve already broken. I broke long before she will. So don’t ever say I’m doing this for revenge. I deserve to be okay, and I deserve to be loved as much as Clarke does, in whatever way I can be.”

Raven nodded in defeat, shifting her weight so she was facing Lexa straight on. “Did you know we used to call you ‘Iron Woods?’” she asked, then elaborated as Lexa cocked her head. “Because you were always so stubborn, always so afraid of showing your feelings when they were the very thing which drove you. Clarke always defended you, she said it was your parents who taught you that. But around Clarke, you were as soft as they came. Just think about that before you go, will you? You’re not just leaving us behind, and your pain behind, you’re also leaving yourself behind.”

Lexa fiddled with her phone in her pocket, scuffing her shoes on the floor while she avoided Raven’s gaze, trying not to let Raven’s words hang to heavy on her. She heard Raven huff when she realised Lexa wasn’t going to respond. Then she started, “life is long, Lexa, and a life sentence is a long time to carry around guilt or regret. It can weigh a person down. I’ve seen it, I’ve experienced it, and I wouldn’t wish it upon you.”

Raven left then, leaving Lexa alone at her locker. She turned and leaned her head against the cool metallic surface, closing her eyes while she took a steady and slow breath. She should have known that someone would have found out sooner or later, secrets fly around the school faster than Superman himself.

But Lexa still had a chance, to try and make things better with Clarke before she left. Things were never going to be the same again, but perhaps leaving with a bit of hope wouldn’t hurt. Thats if Lexa wanted it.

* * *

Her mother had been acting strange, stranger than usual, stranger than Clarke had ever seen her act. So strange, in fact, that Raven had even weighed in, asking if Abby were okay.

Usually when her mother started acting strange or aloof, Clarke would chalk it up to the fact that she simply had a weird or bad day at work, or she was in one of her usual funks revolving around Jake. Come to think of it, Abby had been acting strange since the day Clarke came home and told her that Jake had gotten worse.

Normally her reaction to anything revolving around her husband was to brush it away, seemingly disinterested, then Clarke would hear her cry herself to sleep during the night. Clarke couldn’t even begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for her mother, for the father of her children to be wasting away in a nursing home, getting progressively worse as the months went by while no one could slow it down or stop it.

She had denied it at first of course, when Jake was first diagnosed with dementia. “Oh, that’s rubbish,” she said, Clarke remembers vividly, “he’s far too young, he’s just knocked his head or something. It’s a delayed concussion.”

Even though by that point, Clarke could see there was something fundamentally wrong with her father, because he wasn’t his entire self. After a few months, Jake was diagnosed again with Lewy body dementia, and she watched as the realisation set in, and she watched as her mother began to lose herself. And Clarke had watched her father too, for two and a half years she had watched her father slip away piece by piece, losing the next part, and the next part, until eventually there would be nothing left. She prayed that day would never come, but that was a child’s wish, not reality.

It had broken Abby completely when Aden revealed for his fourth birthday that he wished for, “daddy to remember us and come home soon.”

This time, however, when Clarke came home and told her mother that her father had lost another piece, she seemed placid, as though she was expecting it, as though it were a completely normal thing to hear, as though she was entirely okay about the fact that her husband had lost yet another piece.

Raven had wondered if perhaps there might have been another man in Abby’s life, now that she knew her husband literally had an expiration date. She wondered whether Abby had tried and found someone romantically who could help her through the grief when Jake inevitably did pass. Clarke told her she was insane, that Abby could never do that to Jake… could she?

Her first instinct was to call Lexa, Lexa always gave her the best advice. But Clarke knew they were miles away from civilised conversation even as tempting as the thought was. Lexa had been acting strange too, Clarke noticed, with the way she had been seemingly more engaged with her friends, more open and less constricted and closed off than she had been.

It settled Clarke some, seeing that Lexa was beginning to look like herself again, that she was beginning to look okay. It just hurt that she wasn’t okay with Clarke, it just hurt that she wasn’t the one to help. It seemed as though Lexa had maybe found someone else to help her in that department, and while Clarke knew she had no right to feel jealously of all things, it still hurt that Lexa seemed okay without her, all the while Clarke was breaking on the inside and screaming out for help while feeling like she was stranded on a sinking ship.

Sometimes she stared at Clarke, in the middle of class, for no particular reason, and it only made Clarke scream even louder. And Lexa would just continue to stare as Clarke observed her staring through her peripheral vision, and then when she would finally turn, Lexa would look away as though she hadn’t just been caught staring.

Clarke even swore at one point, that Lexa had been waiting outside the art rooms one afternoon specifically for her, because who else would Lexa be waiting for? She had noticed Lexa before the bell, pacing back and fourth past the door, mumbling to herself. That time, she didn’t look away when Clarke caught her eye, she looked more like _she_ was the one who wanted to say something.

Clarke thought that day would have never arrived, but as soon as the bell rang, Lexa was lost in and amongst the flood of students, and Clarke had felt her heart deflate once again at the absence that was her best friend. Maybe this was Lexa’s way of moving on for good, to try and bury the hatchet once and for all, and she was just trying to work up the courage to do so.

Clarke wouldn’t push her, or even try to convince her, she knew better than that. Lexa had to approach her within her own terms, she had to be okay with Clarke within her own terms. As much as Clarke hated to think that Lexa may have started to move on without her,she knew it would hurt a whole lot more if Lexa didn’t, because at least if Lexa was okay, there was still hope for both of them to be okay with each other, within their own terms.

Clarke had promised herself ages ago that she would fight for Lexa, that she would fight tooth and nail for Lexa and for Lexa’s forgiveness, but Clarke knew that it was impossible to fight for someone who no longer fought for themselves. That being said, Clarke wasn’t ready to give up, she would never give up, not for Lexa. As hard as it became, Clarke had decided to wait for Lexa, just as Lexa had waited for her.

Raven had told her of course, the second Raven found out at the beginning of the week, she sent off a text to Clarke. Clarke had gone home in tears that day too, wondering if there was anything she could have done or could do to change Lexa’s mind.

But it was quite obvious, Lexa had given up. But Clarke still had hope, she had to, it’s all she had left.

It was Thursday during the last week of school before the Christmas break. Abby was working an evening shift, Aden was at the hospital day care, and Clarke was held up in the art rooms. Her art teacher had given them an assignment for the holidays, an ‘Express Yourself’ theme.

Ever the student role model and never one to pass up painting, Clarke had stayed back after the bell, working alone in the art rooms until Abby finished her shift. She painted and she painted, a series of greens, yellows and blues mixed in and amongst each other.

Her picture had no point of focus, no form, and really no point. One might even call it abstract, or a child’s painting. But Clarke knew what she was doing, she was painting eyes, Lexa’s eyes to be specific, with the reflection of the sky within, but no one needed to know that.

Almost an hour after school had finished, she received a text from her mother, letting her know she was leaving the hospital. She packed up, cleaning her brushes and hanging her painting up to dry. She used the keys her teacher had entrusted her with, locking up the art rooms as she left.

She walked the corridors of the school, swinging the keys around and around her index finger, admiring all the small photos and stickers that students had pasted on their lockers, all of which would need to be removed and scrubbed down before Friday’s end.

She continued walking around the school until she reached student admin to drop off the art room keys. She was just about to leave through the front doors when she spotted Lexa at the end of the hallway, cleaning out books and papers from her locker.

She wondered then if she stayed silent in the shadows, would Lexa ever tell her goodbye? If Lexa hadn’t seen her waiting there, would Lexa have left, leaving behind everything and everyone while Clarke was left to try and pick up the pieces, even though her attempts would be futile.

Lexa noticed Clarke of course, and surprised Clarke when she began slowly walking down the hall. On instinct, Clarke’s feet began moving beneath her until her and Lexa met in the middle, only a few metres between them.

They stood there, for God know’s how long, just staring at each other. Lexa looked tired, her face was pale, her olive skin had lost it’s shine, her hair was flat and her eyes were dull. She was almost unrecognisable, and when she spoke, it was like she was biting back the pain of a thousand knives stabbing her all at once.

“Hi,” she murmured, her lip quivering. “I uh… I wanted to say something, I’ve wanted to say this all week. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to now…”

Clarke closed her eyes, holding back the tears beginning to well in her eyes. “So it’s true then? This is it?”

Lexa opened her mouth to say something, but her words failed her. She closed her mouth and shook her head, staring into the distance of the hallway, anywhere where Clarke wasn’t.

“Can I ask why?” Clarke asked, her voice cracking.

Lexa looked at her then, a sad smile pulling at her full lips. “Because you said ‘yes,’” she said simply.

“What if I had said ‘no,’ would that of made a difference?” Clarke asked, swallowing thickly.

Lexa whispered, “I don’t know anymore.”

Clarke closed her eyes and sobbed, the reality of the situation hitting her like a freight train because this _was_ Lexa saying goodbye, no matter how much Clarke wished she wasn’t, no matter how much Clarke wished it were a nightmare.

“You know that I… that I…” Clarke stuttered, unable to find her words.

But Lexa knew, and Lexa nodded. “I know,” she nodded, trying not to let her own tears fall.

“I didn’t want this, I never wanted this,” Clarke continued, getting caught with her own thoughts as she began rambling.

Lexa repeated, “I know.”

“I just wanted to do the right thing.”

“I know.”

“I tried so hard to do the right thing.”

“I know.”

Clarke sobbed again. “Please, tell me now if I can fix this. I’m not ready, I can’t lose you too. I can’t give you up as well,” Clarke plead, stepping closer to Lexa’s trembling frame.

Lexa bit her lip, closing her eyes tight enough that little wrinkles appeared on her pale face. “I haven’t give up,” she spoke, her voice thick and battered, “I’ve given in, Clarke. I had to give in, I had to so I could move on.”

“And leave me behind?” Clarke asked painfully, stepping closer to Lexa again.

“This isn’t about you,” Lexa said sadly, a single tear finally escaping her eye. “This is about me. This is about me wanting to do the right thing.”

Clarke raised her brows. “By running away?” she questioned, her voice breaking.

“You ran first, Clarke,” Lexa reasoned. “And I forgive you, Clarke. Just please forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

“Do you hate me?” Clarke asked, reaching out to brush a tear from Lexa’s cheek.

Lexa closed her eyes, feeling the gentle yet agonising brush of Clarke’s touch against her skin, leaving a fire in it’s wake. “Clarke…” she whimpered, reaching up to place her hand over Clarke’s. “You know the answer to that question.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Clarke muttered despondently.

She leaned in then, closing her eyes while she placed a quick kiss to the corner of Lexa’s lips. Then she whispered against Lexa’s ear, “I hope she’s worth it, however she makes you feel. I hope she’s worth it.”

Then she glided away, away from Lexa’s heat, away from Lexa’s touch. She didn’t look back when she heard a few broken sobs from behind her, she just kept on walking until the grief consumed her, until she started to run, until the only thing she could think of was the pain in her legs and the burning in her lungs, until the pain in her chest and the lump in her throat was subsided by her immense need for oxygen, until the only thing she could think of was how she could ever fix something that was beyond broken.

She was positive that this was what a heart attack felt like, just a constant searing pain, rippling through her body like a tsunami, like a cold and numb trickle of liquid through her veins until everything warm slithered away.

* * *

The next few days were a blur, almost non-existent in Clarke’s mind. She couldn’t recall the hours that had passed even if she tried. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of Lexa’s skin beneath her lips, the heat from Lexa’s hands they flowed along Clarke’s body as she left, then the burning need for oxygen as she ran and ran until she couldn’t anymore.

She hadn’t felt warm since, just a constant shivering presence looming over her, suspending her in an eternal winter. “A winter of the heart,” Raven had said, when she tried to lighten the mood no less than five minutes ago, right before Clarke threw her bedroom lamp at the girl.

She wanted to say it, those three little words that could have changed everything between them, that would have ultimately saved them, but she couldn’t. Clarke had panicked, like she had panicked that night, she had panicked, even though Lexa knew what she was trying to say. It was just another one of a thousand different ways to say what Clarke _couldn’t_ say, of what she would never get the chance to say.

If she concentrated hard enough, she could see Lexa staring at her, she could see Lexa’s smile, that little smirk she wore which made Clarke internally combust. She could see that little glint in Lexa’s forrest eyes, the eyes she loved to lose herself in so much. She could see those lips, those thick and full lips which had been the sweetest thing Clarke had ever tasted in her life.

At least this Lexa was happy, at least this Lexa was here, even if she wasn’t real, even if she was just another hallucination of sorts. But every time Clarke reached, this Lexa would disappear into ash, into oblivion where Clarke could never see her again.

She knew it wasn’t real, but it didn’t hurt any less each time Lexa disappeared before her eyes.

When she heard a knock on her bedroom door, she was positive she would murder Raven, until she saw a crop of blonde hair on a little body. _Aden_.

“Sis?” He cooed, his body hidden from view as only his little head peeked from behind the door.

Clarke sat up sluggishly in her bed, opening her arms in a welcoming gesture. Aden gleefully skipped in, jumped atop the bed and shuffled his way into Clarke’s arms, nestling himself in his older sisters lap and underneath the blankets.

“Did Raven tell you to come up here, little man?” Clarke mumbled, kissing his forehead endearingly.

Aden nodded quickly before adding, “But I wanted to, too. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, little man,” Clarke muttered softly, rocking her little brother in her arms.

“Is Lexie coming around soon? I miss her too,” Aden asked, after a few moments of silence.

Clarke kissed him again, then manoeuvred him so he was facing her properly. She took a breath, composing herself before smiling softly.

“Lexie is going away for a little while,” Clarke began.

“No!” Aden cried in protest, and Clarke pulled her brother closer, letting a few more tears fall into his hair. At this point, she was surprised she had any left to give.

“I know, I know,” Clarke coaxed, running her hands gently through his hair. “I don’t want her to leave either, but Lexie wants to leave. She’s not happy here anymore.”

“But she will miss your birthday, Clarkey!” Aden cried harder, and Clarke was amazed at how perceptive her little brother was, as much as his words felt like a dagger to her chest.

As Clarke had known before, the hardest part about absence is trying to adjust with an empty space, trying to fill that space with anything you can in effort to feel whole again. Lexa’s absence had forged a hole in her chest the size of Arkadia, and the little things such as Aden’s innocent words of protest only reminded Clarke of how painful and deep that hole went.

Festive times such as birthdays and holidays never were much of the same without Jake Griffin. Clarke remembers fondly how each year around Christmas, Jake would stroll around the house in random moments in a Santa Claus costume, hiding presents as though it were an Easter egg hunt.

The gesture was more so for Aden than anything, as Aden would perk up immediately and start yelling, “Santa Claus is here, Santa Claus is here.” The sight was enough to make anybody smile, even reflecting alone on that memory made Clarke feel slightly warmer inside. Even on birthdays, Jake’s baritone voice carrying through the house as he sang a dramatic rendition of ‘Happy Birthday,’ could make just about anybody laugh.

And when that had come to an abrupt stop after Jake’s diagnosis, Lexa had been the one to step up, don the Santa Claus outfit for the Griffin family. While Lexa’s voice was far too soft to be a baritone, Lexa would still try her best, making sure to visit each time one of the Griffin family members were celebrating yet another year of ageing.

But this year, this would be the year where not only Jake’s absence was felt, but Lexa’s was as well. Even Aden, as small, naive and innocent as he was, noticed Lexa’s absence. This was the year, despite everyone still around her showering her in love, Clarke had felt truly alone, had felt the absences of the people she loved more than anything.

Of course she could still visit her father on her birthday, and on Christmas, but Jake wouldn’t know even if she did. Her father wouldn’t be able to tell her the year if she asked, let alone who she was and why she was visiting.

Clarke recalled a memory fondly, possibly one of the most important memories she had. It was three years ago, just a few months before Jake’s diagnosis. Lexa had just come back from boarding school on her winter break when the Griffin family had decided to surprise Clarke with an early birthday and Christmas present. While Clarke’s birthday wasn’t until the twenty-first of December, being so close to Christmas, her family had decided to surprise her all in one just after the semester finished.

With the help of the Woods family, Clarke and her family, along with Lexa, had booked a winter trip to a fancy ski lodge in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. Her father was still lucid, Aden was still a toddler, and Clarke was celebrating her thirteenth birthday with everybody she loved, sans Raven who had been signed up for the senior girls scout club at the time, and was trekking out of town.

“Clarke, do you realise how much trouble we’ll be in if we get caught?” Clarke remembers Lexa’s anxious warning.

“The only way we’ll get in trouble is if we’re caught,” Clarke had said back. “Now stop being a baby.”

“Clarke, I swear to God if we get caught…” Lexa warned again.

Clarke had turned around then, and flicked Lexa’s nose hard enough that brunette had gasped and pouted. Though Clarke was used to Lexa’s tempting pouts by then, as endearing as they would always be. Lexa had been uncharacteristically paranoid that night, rightly so. She was meant to be presenting her family’s name, and her family had warned her about receiving any calls about misbehaviour.

Sometimes Clarke had thought Lexa’s parents were too strict on her, yet she never voiced those opinions out loud. The two girls had snuck out from their rooms in the lodge the night of Clarke’s birthday, and had ventured outside to the heated spa which overlooked the landscape below.

The lodge had been pretty lenient with their rules, considering they were one of the more pricey accommodations to stay at. Perhaps their only rule was that guests were not permitted to access the outside spa and pool after hours for safety reasons.

But Clarke, being the rebellious thirteen year old she thought she was, had tempted Lexa into joining her for a midnight swim.

“Come on, Lexa, it’s so warm in here. You’ll freeze if you don’t come in,” Clarke had cooed playfully, as she submerged herself in the heated water.

Reluctantly Lexa had obliged and had quietly made her way into the spa, wading her way over to Clarke. Clarke could remember the quiet sigh of pleasure which left Lexa’s mouth when she submerged herself in the heated waters.

“It’s good isn’t it?” Clarke asked, smirking as Lexa sighed blissfully.

She splashed Lexa then, causing the brunette the shriek and thrash about in the water at the less than violent assault. Clarke had swam over in an instant, clamping her hand over Lexa’s mouth, whispering harshly, “shut up, you idiot. They’ll hear us and we really _will_ get caught.”

Lexa had only giggled harder underneath Clarke’s hand. Clarke had tried her best to clamp her hand down harder, but failed miserably when she reefed her hand away in disgust after Lexa began licking at her palm.

“You know I wiped my bum with that hand,” Clarke muttered, but Lexa only laughed harder, and soon Clarke had joined her when Lexa draped her arm over her shoulder as they peered out into the darkened valley.

The night was clear as Clarke recalled, and the moon was full, illuminating the darkened valley like a night time sun. She remembered the reflection from the moon and stars off the surface of the lake beside the lodge, and the way Lexa’s eyes shone beneath the candescent light. Lexa’s had noticed her staring, and smiled, smirking at her from the corner of her eyes.

Clarke had turned her attention back out to the valley, muttering absentmindedly, “it’s so beautiful.”

Lexa’s gaze was still focused on Clarke then, admiring her like she was admiring the Mona Lisa. “Yeah, so beautiful,” Lexa had agreed, even though Clarke hadn’t noticed Lexa’s eyes focused only on her.

“Happy Birthday, Clarke.”

Memories like those were hard to think about, now that Clarke knew moments like those would only exist in her memories from now on. They could only serve to remind her of the times that were, when everything was okay, of the times before the worst. Besides, even though they were happy memories, recalling them didn’t just evoke the happiness anymore, but something much more forlorn.

Wishing that she could go back and change the past was useless as well, no matter how much Clarke wished she could. In a universe where time travel was possible, Clarke would have said ‘no.’She would have told Lexa she wasn’t ready, not for her, not for anyone. She would have made sure that they would have never ended up where they did, in the situation they did.

Clarke would have removed the chance of that ever occurring. She would have done the one thing she should have done all along, say ‘no.’

Clarke had gone to bed that night, Aden wrapped securely in her arms while he sucked on his thumb, an anxious habit he was still yet to grow out of. She can remember Abby coming in after her evening shift ended at ungodly hour, she can remember her muttering something soft and sweet over the phone to someone, what exactly she didn’t know.

She remembered hearing Raven’s voice, just outside her door shortly after Abby had visited her room. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying in her sleepy haze. When sleep finally succumbed her, it was of happier thoughts, of a time before the worst.

She woke the following morning, to the smell of something baking in the kitchen, whatever it was, it was delightful. She wondered why her alarm clock hadn’t gone off, but then she remembered, it was the holidays.

Aden was still curled up in her bed, having pushed Clarke right to the very edge in his slumber. Clarke was surprised she didn’t fall off with how far over the edge she actually was. She was content to roll Aden over and fall back to sleep, but then she heard voices downstairs, Raven’s voice to be accurate. It was loud and somewhat bothersome, as though Raven was trying specifically to wake up the entire street.

“Is she awake yet?” She heard Raven say.

A quiet, “no, she’s still in bed with Aden,” sounded in response from her mother.

“I tell you what, if she’s not up in ten minutes, I’m taking her presents home and keeping them for myself,” Raven threatened.

And then Clarke remembered. Today was her birthday.

She turned over, looking at the clock as it read nine in the morning. Not wanting to keep her mother waiting, and curious to see what presents Raven was referring too since Clarke had been decidedly clear she didn’t feel like presents or a party this year, Clarke rolled out of bed.

She pulled Aden along with her, carrying his light frame while his little arms wrapped around her neck and his legs around her waist instinctively, much like a monkey. She carried him carefully down the stairs, narrowly avoiding his breath as he started the beginning of what Clarke had fondly dubbed as his ‘morning yawning syndrome.’

Upon entering the family room, Clarke’s senses were bombarded. There were a stack of presents upon the table, all with little cards adorning her name in what she recognised to be a number of her friends penmanship. Streamers and balloons decorated the walls of the family room, and a large sign was place over the family room entryway arch which read ‘Happy 16th Birthday, Griffster!’

No doubt organised by Raven, Clarke assumed. She found the source of the delightful smell coming from the kitchen, where Abby was wearing an apron Clarke recognised as one she had given her mother as a Mother’s Day gift a few years ago with the help of her father, back when Abby used to cook religiously and not just for special occasions.

Her mother was slaving over the kitchen top, measuring the contents of whatever gooey substance was in her measuring jug, when all of a sudden, Clarke felt two arms wrap around midsection, and the ear piercing screech of, “Happy Birthday, Griffster!”

Aden groaned in protest, now completely awake as Clarke gently placed him down and pulled Raven in for a tight hug. “Thankyou,” she murmured.

“Do you like it?” Raven asked, wiggling her brows as she referred to the large sign on the archway.

Clarke smiled brightly, “I love it. But you really didn’t have to.”

“ _Nonsense_ ,” Raven clapped back. “All of us wanted to. We know it’s been hard for you for a long time, so we all wanted to help make this birthday the best it could be.”

Clarke raised her brows in question.

“I know you said ‘no presents,’ and ‘no party,’” Raven reiterated, raising her hands in surrender, “but I took the liberty of organising just a little shindig tonight. Just those of us from Arkadia. Besides, we all want to meet your presents,” Raven said suggestively.

“ _Meet_ my presents?” Clarke questioned.

Raven nodded animatedly. “In about forty minutes you will too.”

“Okay…” Clarke trailed, more than a little concerned with what exactly her friend meant.

Her mother embraced her next, wishing her happy birthday before giving her a hot cup of cocoa, just the way Clarke liked it with two pink marshmallows on top. The fireplace was up and running, keeping the house warm from the frosty and snowy weather outside. As Clarke took her seat on the couch by the fire place, snuggled up under a quilted blanket with Aden, Raven and Abby came over with their arms full from the presents off the dining table.

“You’ll get to meet your other presents soon, Clarkey, I promise, they’re just caught in a little snow. In the mean time, these are from all of us,” Raven spoke cheerfully, probably even more cheerfully than Clarke felt in the moment. Nevertheless, Clarke appreciated her friend and her enthusiasm endlessly.

She gave a few boxes to Aden, letting him have fun with tearing apart the wrapping paper. So far, Clarke had opened a few new art kits, one with shading pencils for her sketching, and another with some top of the line paint brushes for Clarke to use during her junior and senior years as an art major, instead of the crappy school brushes she had been previously using.

The boxes she had given Aden had a nice bracelet, with a matching necklace and a pair of earrings. Raven had given Clarke a gift separately, a small pouch containing a set of car keys to Clarke’s very own blue painted Jeep Cherokee, one that Raven had been quietly working on on the side with her mechanic friend Kyle, an Arkadia alumni taking classes at Columbia.

As Clarke sat there, taking in the view of her gifts, she knew that no matter how broken she felt, she would always have people who cared, she would always have people who stuck around, even when in her worst moments, she pushed them away.

It was around lunch time when Clarke heard the tell tale signs of Anya’s car pulling up outside the front of her house. Raven had leapt to her feet in an instant, beating Clarke out the door with a victorious, “Aha! There she is.”

Clarke looked back curiously at her mother, who was close lipped but smiling mischievously. Clarke returned her smile nervously, then heard the front door open as Anya waddled inside, donning the puffiest jacket Clarke had ever seen, with a set of earmuffs and a beanie with a ball on top.

She tried holding in a cackle at the sight, as Anya waddled her way straight towards the fireplace before plopping down on the floor. “Hey, Clarke. Happy Birthday. It’s cold outside,” was all she said, before she started furiously removing her gloves and inching her hands closer to the flames.

“Thanks,” Clarke muttered, turning her attention back towards the door just in time as Raven came in holding a large cardboard box with both hands, clutching it to her chest like her life depended on it while she made oogley faces to whatever it was inside the box.

When Raven looked up to meet Clarke’s curious gaze, it was with the biggest grin Clarke had ever seen in her life. “Happy Birthday, Griffster,” she squealed in excitement.

Just as she had finished, a head of fur peaked out from the box, and a small black snout with beady little eyes was staring at her. Clarke’s smile grew, and grew and grew until it couldn’t grow anymore. Just when she thought she might combust, a second, equally fury and multicoloured little head popped out from the box with it’s piercing cyan eyes.

A friendly yap came from the first puppy, and within seconds, Clarke was by Raven’s side, trying her best to balance the two wiggling puppies in her arms while they attacked her face with slobbery licks.

Maybe having a birthday this year turned out better than Clarke thought.

* * *

She was pressed up against the wall panting, panting harder than she had in a long time. She couldn’t remember a time she was this out of breath and this excited all at once. Her senses were tuned into every fine detail around her, every little growl, every little huff, and the scurrying of little paws along the hardwood floor.

Aden was beside her, squished up against Clarke as they hid from view, peering through the crease of the lounge room door. She could hear little paws clicking and little paws clacking, slipping and sliding as their little bodies came scurrying in and out of the room they were hiding in each time Clarke made a noise, or called for her fury new companions.

Naturally, Aden had been very upset when he saw that his big sister had been given two little puppies for a birthday present. However, Clarke quickly consoled her little brother, telling him they were as much his puppies as they were hers, she even told Aden he could help her name them, as long as they were appropriate names, and not the kind of names that a five year old boy would find amusing.

Clarke could briefly make out where raven was, wedged behind the back of the couch and the window, sniggering every few seconds she heard little puppy paws go past. They had been like that for well over five minutes, hiding in the shadows, waiting patiently to see who would be found first.

Instead of being found, they were met with the growls and yaps of annoyed little pups who couldn’t find their owner. Clarke was happy to wait there all afternoon, to observe and see just how long it took her pups to find her, but Raven had let out a large sneeze which seized the attention of the two pups. They came sliding along the hardwood floor in an instant, and started barking at the couch, all too small to quite reach the cushions yet.

Aden couldn’t contain himself any longer either, and burst out from behind the door, only to be met by two very excited and frenzied little things tackling him to the ground, while their tails wagged at a mile a minute.

Anya came out from the hallway cupboard and called, “I guess I won,” in a monotone voice, as the puppies averted their attention to her.

“Griff is still hiding, babe,” Raven responded, whilst crawling on the floor, desperately trying to lure the puppies into her arms.

Clarke cackled to herself, then emerged from behind the door and dropped to her knees. Her puppies snapped their heads up and came bounding over to her immediately. At least they knew who their owner was. They were possibly the greatest gift that Clarke could have ever asked for, their fury little bodies jumping and pawing at her as they begged to be petted.

After she had taken the box from Raven a little over an hour ago, Clarke was met with an eager little German Shepherd puppy, a long haired German Shepherd, Raven had said. He was beautifully coloured, with a mostly black face and a little red around the eyes. The rest of his coat was long and fluffy, with black fur running along his back and down his sides, and his limbs and underbelly a beautiful red as well.

“Call him Chewbacca,” Aden had plead.

Clarke had relented of course and she decided on calling him ‘Chewie’ for short. Her second puppy was a spotted, and multicoloured, fluffy little Australian Shepherd, which Aden had begged her to call ‘Flerken.’

That of course, Clarke couldn’t stand by, and she was instead torn between calling her girl Eleven, Marley or Nala. Clarke ultimately decided upon calling her Eleven, or El for short after Aden practically begged her too, since her cyan eyes were incredibly rare and stunning, much how Aden described the character from Stranger Things. If Clarke were honest, she thought Aden might of had a little crush, but she never said anything to the little man.

They spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Clarke’s new pups, letting them explore their new house and new family. Eleven had taken a liking to Aden straight away, probably because Aden was a little furnace. Clarke had found Chewiw endlessly adorable when she picked up the shivering little puppy and place him inside her jumper.

He immediately curled up against the warmth of Clarke’s skin, and Clarke cradled the little body like he was made of diamonds. With each little snuggle, nibble or lick that came from her new fur babies, Clarke found her happiness returning by the dozen.

When a series of knocks sounded at the front of their door, Clarke was glad to see when her friends all started piling inside, wishing Clarke a quick happy birthday before they turned their attention towards the fireplace and the newest additions of the Griffin family.

In a short while, her house was full of her closest friends, all sharing laughter around the coffee table by the fire place as they sat by the flames, soaking in the heat. Clarke had Chewie snuggledinside her jumper, and Eleven was sleeping soundly on Aden’s lap as he took gulp after gulp of his hot cocoa.

Abby had come in with a buffet of food, having slaved over in the kitchen all morning and afternoon, cooking pizza’s, parties pies, making cakes, apple crumble, and homemade ice cream. The spread she produced was absolutely incredible and Clarke was in a state of euphoria, quickly reminded of just how well her mother could cook.

In another life, if Abby wasn’t a doctor, Clarke was sure that Abby would have been a chef. Clarke had once asked her, why she chose medicine over cooking, since if she became a chef, she would have been able to spend more time with her children.

Abby had told her that it came down to the moment, it came down to that rush of adrenaline that she experienced in the operating rooms that she just couldn’t experience anywhere else. Nowadays, Abby was more of a medical doctor, working in and around the wards and emergency department instead of the operating rooms like she used to.

The night had become even more memorable by the time Jasper pulled his karaoke machine out, and started sing woefully to the Scissors Sisters’ ‘I Don’t Feel Like Dancin.’ A few of Clarke’s friends were surprisingly good at singing, particularly Monty and Emori. Harper was a fair singer too. The least pleasing sounding had to of been Jasper, followed by Murphy, and then Octavia.

Bellamy had made a small appearance towards the end of the night, bringing with him a few novels from a series Clarke loved. When he first saw the puppies, he had made a literal squeal of excitement. He spent the rest of his night rolling on the floor with Chewie and Eleven, vehemently declining his turn on karaoke in fear that he would shatter all the glassware in the house.

Before Clarke knew it, hours had passed in one of the most memorable birthday celebrations she could have asked for. Abby had retired to bed with Aden fairly early in the night, despite his desperate pleas of staying up with Clarke and her friends. Bellamy was next to leave with Octavia, followed by Murphy and Emori, and then Harper, Monty and Jasper. Anya was the last to leave after helping Clarke pack up the rest of the food.

Raven sat with Clarke, deciding to spend the rest of the night with the Griffin’s, mainly because she wanted to spend more time with Clarke’s new puppies, though she would never openly admit to that reason. Clarke was in her solitude of silence, watching the flames dance behind the glass, watching as they rose and fell in tandem with Chewie and Eleven’s chest movements.

She hadn’t even realised that Raven had left, then returned with a cup of tea for them both, snuggling up with Clarke beneath a blanket.

“Thankyou, Raven,” Clarke said after a moment. “I know I haven’t been as grateful to you and to everyone as I should have been, so thankyou.”

Raven nodded, a small smile on her lips as she accepted Clarke’s words. “You know, we may not share the same blood, or the same name, but you’re my sister, and I will always have your back. If you need to yell at me, hit me, cry on me, hell, even if you want to hate me, I can take it, because that’s what sisters are for.”

Clarke shook her head in shame, more at herself than Raven. “You shouldn’t have to though.”

“We all have bad days, Clarke,” Raven responded softly, resting her head against Clarke’s shoulder. “Sometimes those days can last months, and we all need someone who will be there to help us through. You can’t always take the blame, Clarke, _you_ shouldn’t have to. either”

Clarke protested, “I should when it _is_ my fault.”

“Like your dad?” Raven suggested after a moment, “like how you blame yourself for him even though its physiologically impossible to be your fault.”

“That’s different,” Clarke scoffed, swirling around the steaming contents of her cup. “I blame myself because that’s what people do. It’s a part of grieving the loss of someone.”

“Okay, Kubler-Ross,” Raven muttered, chuckling to herself. “Look, bad things happen sometimes, to people who don’t deserve it. Bad things happen to good people, and good people make bad mistakes. But _you,_ Clarke Griffin, _you_ get to choose whether you want to learn from those mistakes,” Raven said in a gusto, eyeing Clarke seriously.

“Lexa doesn’t see it that way,” Clarke commented idly, casting Raven a sad glance. “I mean, she’s leaving for God sakes. She’s running away and there’s nothing I can do. Now the day is almost over and I’m wondering whether everything we ever had meant nothing to her, or if she’s chosen to forget it ever meant something.”

Raven quirked her brow, “I really don’t think you give Lexa enough credit.”

Clarke balked at Raven’s defence of Lexa, and the girl just shrugged. “You and Lexa are just two good people stuck in a terrible situation, and you’re both just trying to make it out alive. You can’t blame anyone for doing that. Lexa is just stubborn, and prided, much like this blonde girl I know insisting that everything wrong with the world is because of her,” Raven said playfully, nudging Clarke’s shoulder.

Clarke responded with a playful glare.

“It’s just…” Clarke began, sighing off into the distance, and Raven placed a reassuring hand over Clarke’s. “My friendship with Lexa was always the one thing I could count on. If I had a bad day, I would see Lexa and it was like that day never happened. Whenever I just needed someone to talk to, she would always be there, I could always count on her being there for me, and she would make me feel so strong, even though a huge part of me felt weak. And now that she’s gone, now that that strength has been taken away from me, what do I have?”

Raven gave her a sympathetic look. “You have me.”

Clarke smiled softly, then felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. It was quarter to twelve, and there on her lock screen, she saw a short message from Lexa. It read ‘Happy Birthday, Clarke.’ It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it had Clarke smiling at her phone screen like it was the winning lottery ticket.

Raven sat up with a knowing smirk, then retreated to the staircase with her mug of tea, muttering faintly as she left, “you don’t give her enough credit.”

Clarke sent a quick ‘Thankyou,’ text off to Lexa before locking her phone and sticking it under the couch pillow. She pulled Chewie’s sleeping body onto her lap, absentmindedly running her hand through his fluffy hair while the other ran lightly along Eleven’s sleeping body.

She watched the flames from behind the glass again, until they dissipated into nothing but embers and ash, and she wondered what the new year would bring her when Lexa was a thousand miles away.

* * *

Lexa had never really been fond of flying, even as a little girl. Even though she knew it was statistically the safest way to travel, she avoided planes at all costs. It was something about looking out of the small square window, and seeing the Earth thousands upon thousands of feet below which scared her the most. At that point, her thoughts were literally up in the clouds.

Fortunately for Lexa, her fear of flying meant that she wasn’t carted around the country with her parents on business trips every few weeks. The downside of course, was that they were fleeting ghosts in her life.

The first time she can recall flying was when she was only six years old, when her parents had taken her to Europe with them for business affairs before spending a couple weeks visiting the major cities. It was the first and only family holiday Lexa could recall having with her parents.

The second time she can recall flying was when she had visited Italy after begging her family for months about seeing the Colosseum after Lexa had watched a documentary about the Roman dynasty. Her parents had gone with her, but hired a nanny out for the holidays to keep Lexa company and to cater to her every whim while her parents relaxed by the hotel bar. The third time Lexa went flying was when she visited Canada with the Griffin’s that one Christmas for Clarke’s thirteenth birthday.

The fourth time Lexa can recall flying, even though she would never admit this, was the night she spent with Clarke on the night of Octavia’s house party. Even so, Lexa still hated flying.

So, that’s why Lexa found herself at the airport on Monday night, waiting for her parents to finish talking to the pilot of their private jet. She figured, if she couldn’t see the ground as she flew, then what was there to be scared of? Thus came the brilliant idea of having her parents drive around at all hours of the night to find a pilot so she could take a night flight to Colorado.

While the winter break had only just begun, Lexa figured what better way to assimilate back into the universe of boarding school than to spend her winter break there. Ever since the new headmaster took reign of Mount Weather, the school had remained open over the seasonal holidays for all the girls who couldn’t go home to their families, for one reason or another.

She was wheeling her suitcase back and fourth inside their private hangar, waiting patiently as her parents finished talking with the pilot when, Lexa felt her phone buzz. It was a Facebook notification, saying that Jasper Jordan had updated his status. Curious to see what the lanky and endearing boy was up to this time of night, she opened her Facebook app and loaded his status, which consisted of a video of their friends crowded around the Griffin lounge room.

Lexa turned her volume to silent, then pressed play, watching as the blurry video focused down on two little puppies running rampant across the rug. Then the footage focused in on Clarke, who was sitting crossed legged on the couch, her brother hanging off one arm and Raven another while they placed a party hat on her head.

She paused the video and eyed the freeze frame of Clarke smiling, and she noticed, the smile couldn’t quite reach Clarke’s eyes. Clarke was otherwise beautiful, the picture of perfection, but there was something missing, a big something, and Lexa was positive that she was responsible.

Feeling guilty, she quickly exited Facebook when she heard her mother and father approach. After a few less than tearful goodbyes, Lexa was sitting comfortably on the private jet, her hands gripping the arm rests anxiously as the pilot backed out onto the runway.

Before the pilot could begin accelerating, Lexa called out, “hold on!” into the open door of the cockpit. She quickly took out her phone again, typing a quick message to Clarke. Even though it was incredibly late, and Clarke was no doubt settling into bed, something was better than nothing right? And if Lexa succeeded in making Clarke smile on her birthday, then that was enough for her to get by.

The pilot called back over his shoulder, “is everything okay, Miss Woods?”

“It’s fine,” Lexa said. “I just forgot something, but it’s fine now.”

The pilot nodded, then began his acceleration down the run way and Lexa was held back in her seat by an invisible force. She glanced out the window, watching as the red lights along the runway eventually became further and further until they simply didn’t exist. She pulled the blind down, and relaxed as best as she could in her seat, undoing her seatbelt when the sign came on.

She plugged in her headphones and started listening to some Midnight Oil, an Australian band her parents had seen on a whim when they last visited Australia and had returned with a few of their albums. Then she wondered, wondered what the new year would bring her when Clarke was a thousand miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/constructive criticism appreciated :)


	7. 7. Someone You Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had almost forgotten what Lexa sounded like, and what Lexa looked like. She could picture Lexa, but when she did, the image was fuzzy. Lexa and Clarke were both in completely different worlds now, and maybe that was the way it was meant to be. Maybe that was what was best for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and next will be a little different than the rest. This chapter is solely Clarke’s POV, and next chapter will be Lexa’s. This part of the story was always the mid way point in the supercorp version, so let’s see how this goes in the Clexa adaption. I’ve put a lot of thought into this and I’ve tried to make this as original as it could be, but this was the part of the story which gave me the most grief with Supercorp, so the next two chapters will be heavily inspired and in sync with how I wrote the supercorp version :) Apologies for any inconsistencies as you read, I try to catch them all but I’m bound to miss a few. Enjoy x

The first few weeks were the hardest, knowing Lexa had moved across the country and had left her life in Arkadia behind. But Clarke didn’t succumb to her inner demons, instead she held her head high and continued on through her days as though Lexa’s absence wasn’t tearing her apart from the inside out.

Maybe she could text Lexa. A little text couldn’t hurt, but they hadn’t spoken all of Christmas break or New Years, not since Clarke’s birthday, neither girl knowing what to say, neither girl wanting to be the first one to break the silence, neither one confident enough to push through the fear of ‘what if she doesn’t respond.’ That would be even worse Clarke thought, if she had sent letter or a message, and received no response. It would be worse than ever having sent one in the first place.

Sometimes she felt like laughing, simply from the obscurity of it all. Other times she felt like crying when the pain became too much on particularly lonely days. Other days she just wanted to scream and scream until she couldn’t anymore, until her vocal chords refused to produce even a decibel of sound.

Instead she had opted for silence. Complete, lifeless silence. And Clarke hated herself, she hated herself for making the one choice that was the catalyst to her entire world crumbling down. She hated herself because she couldn’t say it back, those three words that Lexa so desperately wanted to hear, even though Clarke would never say them in attempt to get Lexa to stay, even though Clarke would never throw around those words as though they meant nothing.

In her darkest moments, part of her wished she had said _something_ , what Lexa was hoping she’d say. Even though she knew her words wouldn’t be said with truth, even though they’d be tainted with lies and selfishness, at least Lexa would still be around instead of a thousand miles away.

And Clarke was mad, she was so incredibly mad a Lexa for being selfish, even though she deserved to be selfish. Clarke was so incredibly mad that her best friend had left, that her best friend had given up not only on Clarke, but also on herself. The Lexa that Clarke knew and loved would _never_ have given up on anyone, especially not herself.

The Lexa that Clarke knew and loved was strong, and so incredibly resilient, like a rubber band that keeps on bouncing back no matter how many times you pull it away. But the Lexa that had stood before Clarke a few weeks ago, the Lexa that had left Arkadia was _not_ the Lexa that Clarke knew and loved.

Clarke didn’t know where that girl had gone, only that she disappeared around the same time Clarke had lost herself. And in attempt to find that girl, Lexa had left Clarke to pick up the pieces of their broken friendship, and if Clarke were honest, her hands were already full.

It was a couple weeks into the second semester when Clarke finally snapped. Walking the halls of Arkadia high with the knowledge that Lexa was a thousand miles away had left an unsavoury feeling in Clarke’s stomach to begin with. Every time she passed where Lexa’s locker once was, her body raged an epic battle in attempts to stop the tears from starting.

So adding on the likes of Arkadia’s new transfer, Dax Shepherd, having already made his claim as the new school bully, was just the icing on top of the cake that was Clarke’s semester. She had caught Dax picking on Monty one day after school by the school gate. It took all of a second before Clarke’s mind went blank, and the last thing she remembers was pushing Dax hard enough that the brute of a boy went tumbling into a thorn bush.

Monty was ever thankful for Clarke’s heroism, but Principal Kane, not so much. Clarke had earned herself two weeks detention after school in Principal Kane’s office writing lines. It certainly didn’t help that Abby had finally felt confident enough to tell her children over Christmas that she and Principal Kane had started to see each other.

As it turns out, Clarke didn’t give Raven much credit either, or her mother. Clarke didn’t mind Principal Kane before, but after finding out he was dating her mother, Clarke was just about ready to push him into a thorn bush as well.

It was during those two weeks detention that Clarke had started to write, letters that she had no intention of sending Lexa, but letters that helped her vent her frustrations and feelings so she wasn’t lashing out at students or teachers in an agitated state. Although Dax Shepherd had it coming to him.

Letter after letter she wrote, for each day of those two weeks, and letter after letter she threw crumbled up into the bin. Principal Kane had asked her one day, “what are you writing , Clarke?” in attempts to ease the tense hostility from the air.

Clarke had ignored the man, deciding that any other unrestrained response and she’d be risking adding more time to her sentence. It was on the last day that she wrote her last letter, a letter she didn’t throw away, but a letter she tucked away neatly in her school bag.

When she got home that evening, she secured the letter inside an unmarked enveloped, scribed the address for Mount Weather Academy and shoved the envelope into her bottom drawer just in case she found that extra bit of confidence she lacked one day.

Slowly, the weeks bled into months, and the months eventually resulted in the sophomore graduation ceremony, and the end of school dance. As the months passed, Clarke had allowed herself to be distracted by just about everyone she could, whether it was her brother, her friends, or even Bellamy, and she realised that as the months went by, she needn’t have to work so hard to have that constant distraction all the time.

She realised that she didn’t feel as heavy, or as hopeless as she felt before. Lexa’s logic was surprisingly accurate, and as the end of the school year arrived, it became easier for Clarke to just be herself again, and she didn’t need to try as hard. Slowly, Clarke began adjusting to her new life without the presence of Lexa, where Lexa was instead, a thousand miles away.

She had cried all the tears left she had to give, and she had felt all the pain which demanded to be felt when she remembered the Lexa she knew and loved.

She knew she still had a long way to go before she had gathered up all those pieces, but she was making a start, and she only hoped that wherever Lexa was, and whatever Lexa was doing, she had made a start too.

And at the end of the school year, when she started to feel the beginnings of some kind of normalcy, she found that extra bit of courage to post that letter she wrote to Lexa. Maybe Lexa would respond, maybe she wouldn’t, but Clarke could wait.

* * *

**A Year & A Half Later**

Should she tell her? Or should she not tell her?

It had been a year and a half since Lexa’s departure from Arkadia, and it was almost the beginning of Clarke’s senior year. The letter Clarke had sent over a year ago had been left unanswered. Clarke had thought about reaching out once more though a different medium, but reaching out became considerably difficult after Clarke had deactivated her Facebook account to concentrate on her studies.

She typed a few text messages of course, but could never actually send them through, she felt as though it wouldn’t mean the same. That’s partly why she sent a letter in the first place, sending a text just seemed too informal, whereas sending a letter made it seem like she actually cared, as though she had put in that extra effort to reach out.

The lost art of letter writing, Clarke mused.

Lexa hadn’t reached out through text message either, Clarke even doubted whether Lexa was still using the same phone number. Her suspicions were confirmed when she tried calling Lexa one night in the week before senior year started.

Raven was visiting, all the way from New York City where she had been accepted into Columbia on a scholarship to study mechanical and electrical engineering. How she managed to accomplish such a feat continued to baffle Clarke, even now. With the amount of attention Raven _didn’t_ pay in class while at Arkadia, it was a miracle she even graduated.

But Raven was smart, she was possibly the smartest person Clarke had ever known. After graduating from Arkadia, Raven and Anya had left pretty much right away. Anya had ended up applying to the NYPD academy as a cadet, and had since been doing very well as a rookie street cop. She certainly loved all the action, and Clarke loved hearing about it.

Nevertheless, about a week before Clarke’s senior year started, Raven had returned to Arkadia to help the Griffin’s pack up their house for their relocation to Washington state. It was a few months ago that Abby was contacted by an old friend she’d kept in contact with from when she was a surgeon, Callie Cartwig.

Clarke recalls the kind woman from when she was little, and Callie had informed Abby of a new trial therapy they were commencing for dementia patients with the presence of Lewy bodies. Jake’s progressive decline had only accelerated in the past year, and after an extensive talk with Clarke and Aden, the Griffin family had decided to move to Washington state so Jake could commence this new trial therapy.

There was literally nothing to lose at this point, and this new therapy was the spark of hope that everyone needed, it was all they had left. Packing was slow, and packing was painful. Everywhere Clarke looked there were memories of her childhood home, such as the markings on the lounge room door frame, representative of Clarke’s growth over the years.

There was a chip in the wall in the kitchen, from when Jake and Clarke crashed Clarke’s life sized, mini wheely car when she was a child. In the garden there were three grave plots, marked with rocks with the names of Clarke’s pet turtles who passed away when she was six, Garry, Larry and Harry. The spare room used to be covered in Clarke’s original artwork, something Jake encouraged the second Clarke could hold a paint brush in her little fingers.

The wall was only recently repainted with a blank beige, but when Clarke looked, she could still see what the wall looked like, even Jake’s terrible painting of a cow that looked more like a black and white smear than anything else.

Everywhere she looked were memories upon memories of her life, all tucked away within this one little house she would soon leave as well, and above everything, she wondered whether she should tell Lexa. What if Lexa tried to finally reach out to her, but couldn’t because Clarke had left? What if Lexa sent a letter and art never arrived? What if Lexa tried calling the landline, but couldn’t because the phone had been disconnected.

Though Lexa hadn’t even tried anything to begin with, at least not to Clarke’s knowledge, and Clarke was left wondering whether it was worth calling Lexa and telling her, giving her one final opportunity which would make or break them forever, which would solidify whether this really was the final chapter in their story.

After a few too many shots of vodka with Raven one night, after Clarke had put Aden to bed, Clarke called Lexa, dialling her number from muscle memory alone.

The phone dialled, but never rang. A single monotonous, disconnected beep hummed through the speaker on Clarke’s phone, and she sat more defeated than ever as Raven gave her a sorrowful expression. When she asked Raven to try, Raven seemed apprehensive, and seemed to recede further than ever, saying that maybe this was for the best, saying that maybe they had to create their own story separately.

That was odd, even for Raven, who was always the one to support Clarke and encourage her to explore her feelings and take the risks she wouldn’t usually take. A year and a half ago Raven was #TeamLexa, but now, Clarke wasn’t sure what Raven was. All she knew was that Raven Reyes _never_ backed down, and she _never_ told anyone to back down either, so why she had, Clarke didn’t know.

So there she was, sitting in the passenger seat of her jeep after Raven offered to drive, only a few miles ahead of the moving truck behind them, their destination, Washington. Mascara stained her cheeks after her more than tearful goodbye to all her friends. Most of them had come to help the Griffin’s in their packing, and had threatened to kidnap Clarke to prevent her from leaving.

Clarke would definitely miss them as well.

Even Principal Kane, or better yet, “please, Clarke, call me Marcus,” made his appearance in helping out the Griffin family pack their house up. It was definitely awkward with all of Clarke’s school friends there, but Marcus had been treating Abby well since they began dating a year and a half ago.

That’s all Clarke had ever wanted, and while she was apprehensive about the whole ‘my mum and my school principal’ ordeal, she had come to respect Marcus more than she had intended. She could see why her mother liked the man, he was very much his own person, and a compassionate person at that.

Abby had never compared him to Clarke’s father, nor would Clarke, but he reminded them both of the man Jake used to be.

Just the little things he did, like leaving a cup of coffee or tea for both Griffin ladies whenever he made one himself. He wouldn’t ask, he would just do it from kindness. He had even replaced a number of Clarke’s art supplies on occasion, after he’d overheard Clarke complain about how she was running low.

Clarke could barely keep up with petrol expenses and car services with her part time job than to be forking out money left right and centre to maintain a steady art supply. But on more than one occasion, she had come home to see a small box on her bed with some extra art supplies to keep her going.

It was surprisingly when Abby had revealed that Marcus once had a daughter, who managed all of twenty minutes with her father until she was taken from the world. Clarke wondered how someone who had gone through that much trauma could still remain as hopeful and compassionate as Marcus, the poor man had even had his dog euthanised not too long ago.

Clarke may have painted Marcus a painting or two of hisdog after that. Chewie and Eleven had gotten along well with Marcus’ old doberman, Houser, when they were first introduced. Marcus thinks that if it wasn’t for Chewie and Eleven, Houser may have passed earlier than he had, but thanks to the two new additions in his life, he had fought to keep up.

Marcus may have kept that painting Clarke made of Houser framed on his bedroom wall as well.

With Aden in the backseat, keeping a much larger Chewie and Eleven company as they sprawled out over his little body, Abby was with Jake, driving his 1976 Holden Torana. Something about the roar of the engine was familiar to Jake, and helped keep him calm.

Clarke had heard things, and seen photos of their new house. It was quite beautiful, sitting just by the waterfront with a backyard of vibrant and luscious vegetation, something Chewie and Eleven would definitely love.

Callie Cartwig, or Cece ,as they called her, was waiting just outside the hospital for the Griffins a few days into Clarke’s senior year, just after they had settled in. She seemed even more beautiful than Clarke had remembered her to be, and she welcomed both Clarke and Aden with a bright smile and a warm embrace.

She had introduced them to the specialists behind the trial, Doctors Diana Sydney and Vincent Vie, the father of Maya Vie who Clarke would later befriend at her new school. Clarke recognised one of the other treating doctors, Eric Jackson, who was currently a neurosurgical fellow, no thanks to his stellar recommendation from Abby Griffin after he had completed his residency a few years prior.

Clarke was also introduced to another man, Jacapo Sinclair, a professor at Columbia who Raven studied under, and a renowned engineer who had helped research the technology used in the trials. He was one of the best, Raven had promised, and that was enough to settle Clarke.

For the first time in as long as Clarke could remember, she was hopeful that Jake would be okay. Life had taken so much from her, but now it was finally granting her something even far greater, her father. 

* * *

 

**Two & A Half Years Later**

She wasn’t really sure who was more surprised, her mother, her friends, or Raven. It was the last thing that anyone really expected Clarke to do, considering her choice of subjects in her junior and senior years, and considering that she was an art major.

Clarke had done a lot of thinking over the year, about where she would like to end up in ten years time. Art was great, and Clarke was good at it, so good, in fact, that she had received numerous scholarships to prestigious art schools alone, so much, that Clarke had even showcased some of her artwork at special events for youthful artists at the Seattle Art Gallery.

Everyone was just about convinced that art was the career Clarke would try and pursue, and it had been, for so long Clarke had wanted to pursue art. She had practically filled her junior schedule to the absolute brim with art, literature and multimedia studies. She was often teased by her new group of friends, consisting of Maya, Illian, Finn, Nathan and Fox after they found out how Clarke’s senior timetbale looked.

It was shortly into her senior year that Clarke had an epiphany, however, and Clarke had rearranged her entire schedule to suit her new aspirations. Jake’s trial therapy had made headway, and it was for the first time since Jake was placed in a nursing home that Clarke was able to have an actual conversation with her dad.

He was lucid for less than five minutes, but those five minutes felt like five million years to Clarke. It was inspiration for Clarke to venture into the world of medicine, to research her father’s disease and help to create cures and treatment for families who were otherwise hopeless and suffering, much like the Griffin’s were.

So Clarke had taken a monumental risk, and dropped many of her core subjects in exchange to undertake more theoretical classes such as AP chemistry and biology. Witha little help from Marcus to obtain her transcript from Arkadia, Clarke was able to transition smoothly into her new schedule.

It came at a cost though. Where her new friends had left around lunch time, their classes all but done, Clarke had remained until the final bell sounded in effort to keep up her unit scores so she could graduate at the end of the academic year. Her persistence had paid off, and by the end of her senior year, Clarke had received manymore scholarships and successful applications into undergraduate medical/surgical degrees.

So, saying her mother and friends were surprised when Clarke accepted a scholarship toPolis University in Minneapolis, Minnesota, was an understatement. For Clarke, it was a no brainer. Polis University was directly linked to Polis Medical School, one of the most prestigious schools in the country which fed graduates directly into the University of Polis Medical Centre, a teaching hospital and major trauma centre located in Washington DC.

It had one of the greatest and most reputable programs in the country, and only the most elite and driven surgeons made it into their program. Cece had once worked under the surgical Chief of Polis Medical Centre, Thelonious Jaha, and had given Clarke major pointers when Clarke was deciding on her scholarship offers.

Clarke had heard many stories about the notorious Chief of surgery, even Abby had worked under him on occasion. He was as talented as he was cutthroat, but he was one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the country, and anyone who had the opportunity to work under him were blessed by Jesus himself.

Polis Medical School, and Polis Medical Centre were both definitely at the top her career path, but they were both years and years away, and a lot could happen in a year, Clarke knew that first hand, and she knew never to take anything for granted or to squander an opportunity such as a scholarship to the one school which could catapult her in the exact direction of her career aspirations.

As existential and philosophical as it sounded, it was her calling, it was how she could help people and make a difference. But Clarke wasn’t the only surprise when it came to university scholarships. Bellamy Blake was even more surprising, if Clarke said so herself.

The poor guy was on track for a football scholarship at Ohio State in Columbus, the same college Lincoln was attending on _his_ football scholarship, when in his final game of the senior football season, Bellamy tore his ACL in a sickening collision. His summer break was spent recuperating from surgical reconstruction, before he headed off to Ohio state to study marketing and marketing management.

Bellamy had always said that in another life, he would have been a realtor. He had the looks, the charm, and he certainly had the confidence to be one. As it turned out, that other life was now, and maybe it had turned out better than he thought, that’s if Octavia’s intel was anything to go by.

Octavia had followed her boyfriend, Lincoln, and was accepted into Ohio State to study a dual degree in Biomechanics and Physiotherapy. Apparently Bellamy had struck up more than just a friendship with a tall, brunette and gorgeous looking Anthropology student who was in her junior year.

The were like two peas in a pod, according to Octavia, and Clarke was endlessly elated for her former boyfriend, turned friend.

Love had seemed to be pretty much all around lately, even for Clarke.

Shortly after her first semester started, Clarke had taken up a part time position in the campus cafe. It wasn’t the best pay, but it helped afford her tuition and her loft rent. Clarke had thought it was a good idea at first to rent a small animal friendly loft to avoidthe stress of a potentially shitty roommate on campus, but she had quickly begun to regret her decision with how expensive affording a living was.

Selling artwork on the side seemed to help Clarke, and her promise to decorate her landlord’s game room with anime art was enough to persuade him to lower Clarke’s rent for the time being. But the money she made only just barely covered her living expenses.

Abby had suggested that Clarke should get a job as a clerk at the hospital. The pay would be better, and the visual experiences would benefit her. Or a job at the local chemist, anything really could be beneficial for Clarke at this stage.

Perhaps becoming an event first aid officer might be beneficial as well. They were all things Clarke could look into in time.

The people she worked with weren’t too horrible though, they were just regular college students trying to get by. There was a friendly senior student, Miles Shaw, who would constantly provided endless entertainment for the staff on shift. Clarke would definitely miss him and his character when he graduated at the end of the school year, but she admired him endlessly, mostly because once he graduated, he would be deployed with the U.S. Navy.

Clarke suspects that some of his confidence was to mask his fear about being deployed, but she was a medical student, not a psychology student, she would have to leave that analysis to Bellamy’s new not-girlfriend, Echo.

While Clarke had spent most of her break before first semester bunking with Raven and Anya in their flat in New York, trying to get used to being away from home before college started, her smooth transition into college was narrowed down to one person, and one person only.

Raven and Anya had been dating for around four and half years, and the pair still seemed to be stuck in their ‘honey moon phase’. It was adorable, but exhausting to watch for the few months before college, and Clarke couldn’t help but be envious of their love.

She couldn’t help but let her thoughts wonder back to Lexa, and what could’ve happened between them if things had worked out. Would they have become a couple? Would they have stayed friends instead? Would they have been glorious together, or would it have inevitably all turned to complete shit? 

That was something Clarke would never know, but something she occasionally reflected upon. After not hearing anything from Lexa, she figured Lexa had either given up, or she just didn’t care.

She doubted whether she’d even recognise Lexa at all anymore. She might have even passed the girl in public multiple times without even knowing it. She had almost forgotten what Lexa sounded like, and what Lexa looked like.She could picture Lexa, but when she did, the image was fuzzy. Lexa and Clarke were both in completely different worlds now, and maybe that was the way it was meant to be. Maybe that was what was best for the both of them.

It seemed as though Lexa had forgotten and moved on easily, and Clarke wished her well, it was just a shame it took Clarke much more effort to be okay, it was a shame it took Clarke much more effort to trust people and let people in because of that. It was a shame it took Clarke longer to recognise love when it was right in front of her in the form of a stunning blonde who was asking for, “one large mocha latte extreme with two marshmallows, please.”

And God, was this girl exquisite looking. Clarke was surprised she had even heard the order properly with how fixated she was on the girl. When she asked for a name, the woman politely responded with, “Niylah.” Clarke had filed that away, muttering ‘Niylah’ in her head like a mantra so she wouldn’t forget.

Obviously she couldn’t exactly ask the woman out for a coffee if she was working, but it seemed as though Clarke wasn’t the only one with a carnal fascination. On her day off, Clarke was sitting by the library, her back up against a large tree as she enjoyed the warm breeze. Her glasses were perched upon the edge of her nose, and her now short and lightly crimped hair was hanging loosely just above her shoulders.

She heard a voice from her left, a soft voice, a voice she recognised from the beginning of the week, the same voice which ordered the large mocha latte extreme with two marshmallows.

Her head snapped up, and she instinctively bit her lip when her eyes glazed over the tall blonde.

“You’re the girl from the cafe? The hot one who took my order on Monday morning,” the girl, Niylah, spoke shamelessly.

Clarke raised her brows in amusement, her cerulean eyes just peaking over the rims of her glasses. She watched as a subtle shiver passed through Niylah’s body, and she smirked. “You must be Niylah,” Clarke stated, quirking a single brow in question, even though she knew very well this girl was indeed ‘Niylah.’

“You remember my name,” Niylah responded in shock, ducking her head and brushing some hair over her ears. “Do I get to know your name?”

Clarke’s smirk widened, and she was amazed with she how forward and brazen she was next. “How about my phone number instead?”

And Niylah’s responding smile was all Clarke needed to know.

When she told Raven about it that night, she heard Anya call out, “it have must been the glasses,” and Raven quickly followed with, “yeah, definitely the glasses.”

* * *

**Three & A Half Years Later**

It was the year that nobody had been asking for, and a busy one at that. Christmas was almost upon them and Clarke had decided to return to Seattle for the festive celebration. It was her first Christmas holiday in college, and it was also the first time Abby would meet Niylah.

Raven had already met Niylah, after visiting Clarke during the Thanksgiving period after Clarke stated she wouldn’t be able to travel home due to having to pay for a vet bill after Chewie had eaten one of her slippers.

Abby had insisted that she could just pay the travel fare, but Clarke was persistent that she would need to learn to manage her funds better, and she could use the Thanksgiving break to work on more artwork to sell, that way nothing could stop her from returning home for Christmas.

Aden was immensely excited to see his big sister again, and her new girlfriend, however, he caused quite the uncomfortable evening and awkward visit home when he muttered, “you’re not Lexa,” after Clarke and Niylah walked through the front door.

Clarke had to awkwardly explain to Niylah the details of her complex relationship with Lexa, something that had surprisingly never come up at all in their relationship thus far. Although Niylah hadn’t been expressively open about her past romances either, even after five months of dating.

Their relationship was a constant propulsion forward, full of adventure and excitement, just the way Clarke imagined a proper relationship to be. And while they had spent a considerable amount of time getting to know each other, the dreaded question of relationship histories never came about before.

Niylah had called Clarke the day following their interaction by the library, and they had gone on their first date that night. Clarke had taken her to a cafe, her favourite cafe overlooking the bay, a place she occasionally visited to sketch or paint her artworks to sell.

That night, Clarke had sketched Niylah, in her private sketchbook. It was a beautiful landscape of Niylah sitting comfortably on the other end of a wooden bench, her arm resting on the back as she gazed out onto the shimmering water, the occasional ferry horn sounding in the distance.

It was peaceful and serene, it was another calm before the storm.

The couple had gone out a few more times and had built up a tentative friendship until five months ago when Niylah formally asked Clarke to be her girlfriend, and Clarke had, without a second thought, said yes.

There was just something about Niylah that made Clarke feel exhilarated, everything she did was spontaneous and impulsive, and Clarke had never felt so excited in her life by anyone. Niylah’s confidence had brushed off against Clarke in so many different ways, whether it was Niylah herself, or the fact that this was Clarke’s first serious relationship, she felt more in control of her future than she ever had.

Niylah was a passionate andadventurous individual, and she certainly took Clarke for a ride. Clarke had only wished that the control had lasted. As confident and sure of herself as Niylah was, which she had to be when studying secondary education, Clarke had never seen her so nervous than the day she had met Abby, even though Clarke had assured her endlessly that her family was supportive and approving of anyone Clarke dated.

Granted, she hadn’t dated much, not since Bellamy, but the fact of the matter still stood. Despite their rocky start to the Christmas break back in Seattle, Clarke’s friends and family had ended up adoring Niylah just as she promised they would, Aden especially.

It was in the last week of their Christmas break when Abby had received a frantic call from Cece. Apparently the treatment which Jake had been doing so well with had begun to fail, and Jake was deteriorating quicker than the doctors could prevent. The last week of Clarke’s Christmas break was spent inside the hospital, never leaving her father’s side.

She’d told Niylah to return back to university, unsure of how long she would need to stay with Jake, unsure of how long he even had left. Niylah had refused, and had stuck with Clarke all week, waiting by her father’s side for any indication that this wasn’t the end, that this wasn’t the end of Jake’s fight.

He passed peacefully on a Sunday evening, around the same time Clarke would always visit him back in the nursing home in Arkadia. Her heart froze in her chest as she stared at her father’s lifeless body, peaceful and at rest, but lifeless.

Where Aden screamed, and Abby mourned, Clarke was catatonic. Not a single tear fell down her rosey cheeks, not because she didn’t hurt, not because she didn’t feel the pain of thousand knives in her heart, because she did.

But it was a pain all too familiar, a pain no one should get used to feeling, but one that Clarke was. And the truth was, Clarke had been mourning her father since the day of his diagnosis a little less than five years ago. Clarke simply couldn’t conjure the tears to fall again. Too many tears were shed for that pain that there were simply no more to give.

The texts, calls, and flowers came flooding in like rapid fire over the next few days, but not from the person Clarke had wanted them from. Even an article was published in Jake’s name by the hospital, along with three other candidates of the trial therapy who had passed away. His death was looked into, along with the three others, and his body donated to science afterwards to better understand the nature of Lewy body dementia, but Clarke wondered why it even mattered.

Her father was gone, Jake was gone, and it didn’t matter how it happened, or why the trial was unsuccessful, he was just _gone_ , and he wasn’t coming back. It’s not like knowing how it happened made any difference to anyone, it’s not like knowing how it happened would ease the pain, or make it hurt any less. It’s not like knowing how it happened would bring him back.

Pain was pain, and loss was loss, and that’s most of what Clarke had known in her life. Pain and loss.

A funeral service was held in the New Year, all of Clarke's friends, old and new coming to pay their respects to papa Griffin, offering their condolences to the remaining family. Niylah was there, and she sat with Clarke as people began laying flowers around the closed casket.

As she sat there with Niylah’s hand resting in her own, Clarke looked around the service, looking for one person in particular, a person she hadn’t heard from or seen in years, but a person she so desperately needed for reasons she couldn’t explain.But she wasn’t there, Lexa wasn’t there, and she’d never be there again.

* * *

**Four & A Half Years Later**

Another loss in Clarke’s life, another day in Clarke’s life. Everywhere she looked was tragedy after tragedy after tragedy. Wars, disease, death, it was filling every crevice in her life, and the pain was demanding to be felt.

Almost six months had passed since Jake’s death, and Clarke was still struggling, she was struggling to admit that she had a problem and needed help. Niylah had helped her, all that she could, but Niylah wasn’t a therapist, and that’s what Clarke needed.

For so long Clarke had been strong in the face of grief, she had to be strong for Aden, and for Abby. But eventually everyone has their breaking point.

While Clarke had been able to maintain her grades in university, and maintain regular hours in her new position as an event first aid officer, maintaining her relationships were another thing altogether. She barely spoke to Raven or her older friends anymore, and whenever she did, she snapped at them or told them to leave her alone whenever they asked her how she was holding up.

Niylah was sweet enough not to say anything, to just let Clarke carry on in her funk, but it was plain to see that even she was getting fed up with Clarke and her mood as well. Bless her heart she continued to stick by Clarke, unlike so many people who had left her, Clarke wouldn’t know what she would do had Niylah left her too.

If there was one thing she could count on to help her through all the pain, it was that Niylah was there, and Niylah wasn’t going anywhere. Their relationship had only strengthened since Jake’s passing, with Niylah and Clarke spending their nights on and off at each other’s apartments. Niylah had even begun to spend more of her time staying at Clarke’s than she did in her own apartment.

Chewie and Eleven had something to do with that, as Niylah’s landlord didn’t allow pets, and the fact that Clarke’s loft was closer to campus than Niylah’s apartment did help tremendously. Recently, Niylah had been spending a lot of time studying on campus, trying to finish her final year with stellar marks which would look favourable on her transcript, and Clarke’s loft was incredibly convenient.

Clarke had promised to send at least a couple texts a week to her mother, after Abby had threatened to contact the school Dean, just to let her mother know she was coping. She had even asked Cece to keep an eye out for Clarke, and to check on her every now and then, since Cece had returned Washington DC to work under Chief Jaha.

Raven had made her promise too, it was all anyone could really do for Clarke. But any and everything done was enough, and it gave her remaining family a peace of mind knowing that Clarke was at least coping. Apparently she wasn’t the only one just coping though.

One evening, in the beginning of autumn, while Niylah was cooking dinner and Clarke was flicking aimlessly through the TV stations, she came across a headline which immediately caught her attention. She flipped back a few channels to the striking headline and saw the name ‘Woods’ branded across the television screen.

She promptly turned up the volume, and she listened in as the news anchor spoke;

“In breaking news, Grayson Woods of the Woods Corporation has stepped down from his role as CEO due to a malicious scandal of money laundering and an alleged affair with fellow board member Becca Franko. A statement has yet to be released confirming or denying these allegations. Though there’s no word yet on how this will effect the future of the Woods Corporation, it is clear…”

Clarke listened on as the news anchor began babbling about economics and financial matters, and the fall of the stock market should the Woods Corporation suffer a detrimental loss in revenue, when the screen flicked to some pixelated footage of a woman Clarke recognised as Annabeth Woods, and a tall brunette behind her who’s face was obscured.

An unsettling feeling began brewing in her stomach the longer she watched the footage, and she uncomfortably shifted on the couch, causing a disgruntled groan from where Eleven was sprawled across her lap.

As the footage became more focused and clear, Clarke felt her heart rate begin to rise as the obscured face of the tall brunette became more recognisably clear. There on the screen, with her arm linked with her mother’s was Lexa Woods, looking unlike Clarke had ever seen, unlike Clarke could ever imagine.

A small gasp left her mouth, and Niylah looked over in curiosity. Lexa had kept her head mostly down and out of view, with her eyes averted from the camera. But Clarke could recognise those lips, that nose, those eyes, even as pixelated as they were. Clarke would recognise Lexa, and she _did_.

The footage continued until the family reached their car, pushing through a line of cameraman and microphones waiting to get the first statement. Once her father and mother were safely in the confines of the car, Lexa turned to face the camera, her beauty and regality revealed in all it’s glory, and Clarke couldn’t help the hitch in her breath.

Lexa was stunning, Lexa was otherworldly, and Clarke had missed it, Clarke had missed it all. Lexa had always been naturally beautiful, but seeing her for the first time in years, even though it was only on television, it caused Clarke’s heart to flutter with an unfamiliar feeling, and it caused her stomach to twist.

And when Lexa finally opened her mouth, the sound that came out was absolute music to Clarke’s ears, it was a sound she had missed more than she had ever realised, a sound she had almost forgotten, but one that still resonated deep within her her soul, causing a flurry of emotions she hadn’t felt in years, a flurry of emotions she couldn’t quite yet comprehend.

“Lexa! Can you confirm or deny these allegations pertaining to your father?—“

“Will Grayson remain as the company’s future CEO?—“

“What does this mean for the Woods Corporation’s future in the business market?—“

Lexa had waited patiently for the questions to subside, before she began, as confident and poised as ever. “We would like to ask that the media respects our privacy in this difficult time. As for the future of the Woods Corporation, it is a continuously expanding and thriving company, and it has been passed on into good hands for the time being. Our family will see too it that the Woods legacy will live on despite the current circumstances and allegations against my father. No further comments will be given at this time, thank you.”

Lexa sunk back into the tinted care as gracefully as she let the words fall from her lips, and Clarke started feeling a questionable urge to ask Lexa if she was okay, but she knew doing so was the wrong decision. Lexa had made it abundantly clear that the end of their story concluded years ago, and Clarke had since accepted that fact.

Besides, Lexa never wanted sympathy from anyone, which is exactly what it would be if Clarke tried to reach out to her once again. It’s not as though Clarke had completely dismissed the idea of reaching out to Lexa again over the years, but the reality still stood. Both girls were in completely different worlds, they had grown apart and lived different lives, and they had created new lives without each other.

Even now, it was probably too late for reconciliation. And even if Clarke really went through with trying to contact Lexa, she had no idea where to begin. Lexa’s number had long since been disconnected, proof of when Clarke’s call failed before the beginning of senior year.

Clarke had no idea where Lexa lived, if she even resided in the states still. She had no idea what Lexa even did for a living, or who her friends were nowadays. Any means of communication with Lexa was simply non-existent now. Besides, what would the daughter of a high profile billionaire business tycoon, former CEO and philanthropist entrepreneur want to do with her? 

 _Nothing_.

* * *

 

**Five & A Half Years Later**

Since bad news comes in three’s, Clarke was just waiting for the third shoe to drop. It was her fourth and final year at Polis University, and Clarke was steadily topping her year, which was surprising considering her mental state not too long ago.

After some major convincing from Abby and Raven, Clarke had finally relented, and agreed to see a therapist about how she was handling her father’s death, and how she would come to terms with death in her future career.

Cece had recommended her personal therapist, Dr. Michael Vinson, a man who had helped her deal with death and dying in her career, particularly with long term patients. “It never get’s easier, Clarke,” she had said, “you need to take control of it before it takes control of you.”

Her words were wise, and Dr. Vinson was surprisingly helpful to Clarke. Weekly sessions with him had seemed to put her on the right track again, and it felt like a humongous relief to release the weight and burden she had been carrying since her father’s death.

It was her last year of college, so naturally Clarke had been spending a lot of time studying, and working on her applications for medical school, one medical school in particular. This meant that she had spent a lot less time with Niylah, and had missed multiple Skype calls with Aden. Supposedly Niylah had been okay with the distance wedged between them, although Aden was a different story.

Some unexpected news happened to arise on Clarke’s twenty-first birthday, when she discovered that her parents had set up a trust in her and Aden’s name. It was written in Jake’s will that all his assets and possessions were to be handed down to Clarke and Aden on their twenty-first birthdays.

Knowing that there was a slim chance of him being around when Clarke inevitably did turn twenty one, Jake had been assured that Clarke would receive half of all his remaining possessions, including that of his 1976 Holden Torana.

That was Abby’s little gift to Clarke on her birthday, that, and a few old anatomy and surgical books she had up storage which she had found useful in her glory days. Thanks to her inheritance, Clarke needn’t worry about paying off student loans anymore, or even falling short on her rent. In fact, one of the first thing’s Clarke had done with her inheritance was to get a loan from the bank, and purchase a small suburban house close to the hospital and medical school, already having preempted that she would succeed in her application.

It was backyard friendly in a familial friendly suburb, very reminiscent of her home back in Arkadia. Chewie and Eleven certainly loved their new backyard, which was far less cramped than Clarke’s quaint little loft. Upon buying the property, Clarke hadn’t really considered how Niylah felt about it, considering Niylah was practically living with Clarke in her loft.

If she was honest though, Clarke loved Niylah, but she wasn’t ready to move in permanently with Niylah. Maybe in a years time when she had graduated college and was attending medical school, but at the present, she hadn’t felt ready to take the next step in their relationship.

For Niylah, having been more than a year out of college, Clarke hadn’t realised that Niylah had been considering taking the next step, and Clarke buying her own property without so much as mentioning it had felt more like a blow to the gut than anything. There ensued an argument about communication and commitment, before Clarke had suggested that maybe it was better that Niylah spent the night at her own apartment.

That’s all she had meant by the suggestion, she didn’t mean anything by it, definitely not a breakup statement, but perhaps a break was what they needed, because when Niylah visited the next day, and the couple shared an honest conversation, Niylah had asked, “will you ever want to move in with me?,” and Clarke had stuttered.

The stutter was all that Niylah had needed to know before she left Clarke’s new home with a tearful goodbye kiss to her cheek, wishing that whatever or whoever Clarke was looking for, she hoped she would find it soon.

Whatever Niylah meant by that, Clarke wasn’t so sure. What was most alarming to Clarke about their breakup was that part of her felt _relieved_ that it was over. Part of her felt as though it was a constant chore to be in a relationship with Niylah in the end.

She had _loved_ Niylah, that much she was sure of, but whether she was _in love_ with Niylah, she wasn’t so sure about that either. Raven had offered to come by and smack some sense into Niylah, but Clarke urged her not to, telling her this time, it definitely felt like it was for the best.

Besides, there’s no way Raven could be a proper God-Mother if she was incarcerated. Possibly the most surprisingly event to have occurred in the past few years was the announcement that Harper and Monty were expecting their first child. If Clarke was honest, she had practically forgotton they were a couple.

But the pair had maintained their relationship throughout high school, and well into their adult life. Why Monty and Harper had chosen Raven of all people to be their first born’s God mother, Clarke would never know. Clarke suspects that while at Columbia, Raven had coerced Monty into choosing her, whereas Jasper was the obvious choice for the God-Father.

Sometimes Clarke regrets her decision to move across the country for college. While Lincoln, Bellamy, Octavia, and by extension, Echo, were close by studying in Ohio, most of Clarke’s friends, both new and old had gone to college on the other side of the country. Monty was studying at Columbia with Raven, and Anya was a fully fledged officer for the NYPD. Harper was finishing her studies at NYADA, and Jasper was studying Botany at Berkeley University in California.

Murphy and Emori were both at the University of Southern California, studying Architectural design and Journalism, respectively. Most of the friends Clarke had made in Seattle had stayed in Seattle, apart from Illian who was serving in the Marine Corps, and Maya who was studying biomedical science at Washington State University.

Out of every one of Clarke’s friends, Finn Collins had been the only one to join her in Washington DC, where he was currently working as a chef in a five star restaurant in the metropolitan region. She had kept in loose contact with her friends over the years, her schedule almost always getting in the way of any form of reunion with them.

She would’ve liked to be around for the milestones in her friends lives, but Abby had warned her that when pursing a career in medicine, there’s almost no time for recreational activities in the beginning. That part came later.

Clarke had ended up missing the baby shower for Monty and Harper’s baby, but she made damn sure she attended the welcoming home celebration for the new family of three. They truly were the calendar perfect family, and little Jordan Green made the perfect new addition to their little family.

A few people had asked whether or not Monty and Harper were thinking of tieing the knot anytime soon, now that they had a little rascal to care for, but they were adamant that there hands would be tied enough as it is for a while to come, although a marriage was something they were both keen on.

Clarke had started to waited by her letter box for a invitation after that.

Harper had told her that Lexa was invited, which mad Clarke’s heart promptly stop in her chest, much to Harper’s amusement before she elaborated and informed Clarke that Lexa had to decline the invitation due to personal reasons. Although she had shown Clarke the large package that Lexa had shipped to their front door, consisting of a cot large enough to fit five little Jordan Greens, and a series of children’s books.

Clarke wouldn’t openly admit that she wasslightly disappointed that her one chance to see Lexa in all these years was spoiled, but she couldn’t remain sour for too long when there was a tiny little baby making grabby hands at her.

It was strange being the odd person out, because that’s what she was. This was the first time Clarke had been completely unattached and independent in her life. Monty and Harper were a happy little family, Bellamy and Echo were gushing over starting a family once Bellamy graduated, Murphy and Emori were… well they were Murphy and Emori. Raven and Anya were as tight as ever, still holding up as a sheet of chromium.

Everyone seemed to be getting their life in order, or starting to settle down in little families, and then there was Clarke, newly single, living with two large dogs, alone in her house sorting through numerous emails in response to her school applications.

It almost made her feel jittery with nerves at how eery it was to be alone, it was a completely unfamiliar feeling to be _completely_ alone.She didn’t necessarily feel unsafe, but just a little on edge, as though she was anxiously waiting for the next step in her life.

For months she had felt like that, and she sort through apology after apology of unsuccessful applications, until finally, Clarke received an email from the one place she had been desperately waiting for.

Chief Jaha of Polis Medical Centre was requesting an interview with Clarke, _the_ Thelonious Jaha of the most prestigious surgical program in the country was requesting and interview with Clarke Griffin. If it wasn’t a heart attack she experienced when she read that email, she didn’t know what it was.

She had phoned Abby immediately, even though the time zones meant that she was phoning her mother at six o’clock in the morning. The first thing Abby had said was, “breath, Clarke, just breathe,” but breathing felt like an impossibility with how high of excitement Clarke was.

Abby had called in a favour with Cece, to which Clarke was endlessly thankful for, as Cece had ran through a few trial interviews with Clarke to prep her for the big interview. Before she knew it, she was waiting inside the lobby of the University of Polis Medical Centre, fiddling with her binder full with her resume, academic records and clinical experience.

She was positive that no matter what happened in the interview, she would at least make a lasting impression, if not a good impression. But meeting Thelonious Jaha in person was nothing that Cece’s mock interviews could prepare her for.

Clarke had seen photos, read scathing and admirable articles about the successful man, but nothing could do him justice. He was the epitome of professionalism, his flat ironed doctors coat fitting to his tall frame as he welcomed Clarke into his office with a firm handshake.

He was tall, that’s the first thing Clarke noticed, he was taller than Clarke had previously imagined. He also looked a little older than Clarke initially thought as well, but Clarke would never openly admit that if she wanted to make it out alive, much less with a job. Perhaps his slightly aged appearance came with being the chief of the greatest surgical program in the country.

There were two other people in the Chief’s office, two women, one of whom Clarke assumed to be the head of the medical school, Miranda Mason.

“So, Abby Griffin, huh?” Chief Jaha commented.

Clarke cleared her throat, and nervously correct, “actually, it’s Clarke Griffin. Abby is my mother.”

“Of course she is,” Chief Jaha cheered. “She was one of the best surgeons I had ever seen in my career,” he praised, “it’s a shame she retried from surgery.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Clarke muttered awkwardly.

Chief Jaha raised his brows, examining Clarke with close scrutiny. “If you are anything like your mother used to be, I know you will do well in this program. But I couldn’t possibly accept your application due to my fondness of your mother, that would be unprofessional and unethical.”

Clarke swallowed thickly, disappointment beginning to seep it’s way through.

“ _But_ ,” the Chief continued, “I have reviewed your transcript, and I think you will do well here regardless. Medical school is gruelling, but your internship and residency will be even more so. Know your limits, Miss Griffin, and welcome to The University of Polis Medical School.”

She spent over and hour on the phone when she got home, gushing to her mother, and then Raven, and then everyone in her contact list really, telling them that her interview couldn’t have gone better.

Lastly, she called Finn, wondering if he was available to go out for a celebratory drink one night when he wasn’t working in the kitchen. The easy going man was more than happy to accompany Clarke for a celebratory shot or two.

They had ended up visiting the latest nightclub that had opened in the city, The Dropship, and after a long night of booze and dancing, Finn invited Clarke back to kitchen and made possibly the _best_ toasted cheese, tomato and ham sandwiches she had ever had in her life.

He called her a cab ride home after that, telling the cab driver, “make sure she get’s home and in her house safely, I’m not paying you this extra for a tip.”

Once she was home, tucked underneath her covers with Chewie and Eleven underneath her arms, she thought that she’d maybe like to see Finn Collins again. And she though that things were finally starting to look up, and her life was starting to move on and forward into better things.

* * *

 

**Six & A Half Years Later**

Chief Jaha wasn’t lying when he said that medical school was absolutely gruelling. Clarke was forced to make friends almost immediately, friends she could rely on for study sessions if she wanted to make it out of medical school alive.  
****

She befriended a tall, dark fellow, Wells Jaha, who insisted he had no connection to the Chief of surgery, it was just mere coincidence. Though Clarke remembers very specifically seeing a family photo on Chief Jaha’s desk with a very familiar looking man in it. She had also befriended an awkward looking man, who was even more awkward to be around, Atom Campbell, as well as an unpleasant and insolently behaved girl, Josephine Lightbourne.

As much as Clarke despised being around Josephine of all people, she couldn’t deny that some brains hid behind her brash and disrespectful attitude. Clarke had continued with her position as an event first aid officer, even suggesting that Wells should apply, because the hands on experience would be extremely beneficial when they go for their trauma certification in their intern year.

Provided they graduated medical school that was, but Clarke was hopeful they all would. She wasn’t so sure whether Atom would make the cut, but she was willing to help the man as long as it wasn’t effecting her learning. 

In her downtime, whenever that seemed to occur nowadays, Clarke often hung out with Finn, visiting the sites of the city. They hadn’t labelled anything, or dove into anything serious at all, they were just happy to exist and be happy with one another. Clarke was just finally happy to be with someone without having strings attached or complicated feelings for.

Finn was sweet, he was nice and he was cute with his smirky grin and floppy hair. Most importantly, he was completely uncomplicated, and complicated was the last thing that Clarke needed right now. It did help that the sex was great, and Finn was a very generous lover, and Finn had been very accomodating of Clarke’s busy schedule.

She didn’t need to come home after a long day and worry about seeing her boyfriend or girlfriend, she didn’t need to worry about cancelling on date night because something came up, she didn’t need to worry about the fact that she hadn’t seen Finn in over 3 weeks, apart from the times he came by the school with lunch for Clarke a few times, brining her cheese, tomato and ham sandwiches just the way she liked them.

Whenever they did see each other, it was simply chill, with no restraints or no expectations, just the way liked it.

She had been studying late one night at the school, taking a small break to browse though her news up for the latest set of affairs, when yet another news headline caught her attention. A small video was loaded on her news app with the caption, ‘Rest in Peace Dante Wallace.’ The post had tagged Mount Weather Academy and the offical news account for the Woods Corporation, because they apparently owned news outlets now.

Clarke plugged in her headphones and pressed the video, waiting a few seconds while it buffered into clarity.

“It was in the early hours of the morning that Emergency services were called to the Wallace estate following a frantic 9-1-1 call. The most recently appointed CEO of the Woods Corporation was seen being rushed to hospital in the back of an emergency vehicle. A statement was released by the company shortly after the news broke, stating that Dante Wallace had been living with illness for quite some time. Unfortunately Dante Wallace was pronounced dead on arrival to the hospital. A public memorial service will be held in Washington DC in commemoration of Dante Wallace, and his contribution to the government and education industries. The Woods Corporation is still yet to release an offical statement on who Dante’s successor will be…”

She pulled out her headphones before she heard anymore, she didn’t want to hear anymore. First the allegations about Grayson Woods, and now Dante Wallace had died. Clarke didn’t want to imagine how Lexa must have been feeling right now, or how concerned with the future of her family company she was.

The Woods Corporation had suffered some after the allegations about Grayson Woods were voiced. The man was forced to retire from running his own company, and Clarke had even heard rumours Annabeth Woods had left her husband because of the allegations made against him.

While they still made some public appearances together, the Woods family became very much a recluse until the hype from the allegations fizzled away. But now that spotlight was back on their family, in the form of the tragic death of Dante Wallace.

Again, Clarke felt a familiar urge to reach out to Lexa, to make sure she was once again okay, even though she knew full well that doing so was still an impossibility. The last person Lexa probably wanted to see was Clarke. There was literally nothing of benefit that Clarke could offer her except for bad memories and more pain than she was probably already feeling, and God knows the two of them had already suffered enough pain in their lives.

There had been no news broadcasts, statements, or absolutely anything for months afterwards, until one morning when Clarke was out for a run with Chewie and Eleven, she came across corner stall with the daily papers.

She read in big, black, bold letters;

The Woods Corporation Appoints New CEO: Alexandria Woods.

* * *

**Seven & A Half Years Later**

The news of Lexa’s appointment as CEO of the Woods Corporation had spread across the country like wildfire.

Both Grayson and Annabeth Woods had gone into hiding following the major backlash they received about appointing their twenty-three year old daughter as the successor to one of the biggest industrial corporations of the millennium.

Lexa had been trying to keep the family from being torn apart by the tabloids, but the tabloids were ruthless.In her effort to keep the heat off her family, Lexa, had decided to move officesacross the country to Washington DC.

The public memorial service was held for Dante in the late autumn, and Clarke, having almost finished medical school, and working as an event first aid officer, was asked to attend the memorial service. Wells had joined her, after following though with Clarke’s suggestion to apply as a first aid officer.

The memorial service was held over the course of a week, most of National City coming to pay their respects to one of the most influential people of the decade. She never saw Lexa at the memorial. The memorial was more an event for the public, but it didn’t stop the media outlets and television stations from showing up to try and get a glimpse of the young CEO.

Clarke saw faces upon faces of people, people she had never seen before, some she thought recognised from the hospital, and others she did recognise, like Josephine Lightbourne, Cece and Finn. But none of those faces belonged to Lexa.

 It was selfish really, hoping Lexa would make an appearance. She was probably just trying to make it through her day without being hounded about how her parents had made the biggest mistake of the millennium by appointing her as CEO.

A few pictures had surfaced over the course of the memorial week of Lexa, most of them being candids of Lexa and that girl Luna, the one Clarke remembers as the Mount Weather representative all those years ago. And damn her, she still looked exotic and ethereal, if not more than she had before.

Clarke tried not to dwell on the fact that that could have been her with Lexa, had they played their cards right all those years ago. Finn was a welcomed change in her life, but neither Finn nor Niylah were Lexa. No matter how far Clarke had come in her life, no matter who she dated, or how much she liked who she was dating, Lexa was still at the forefront of her mind, if not dwelling in the back, just waiting for her time in the limelight.

Clarke wonders whether Lexa ever though about her, whether Lexa reminisced about the good days, whether she felt nostalgic or excited at the very thought of Clarke. She probably didn’t, the poor girl had too much on her plate to think of much else. Though it was nice for Clarke to imagine, it gave her a sense of serenity.

As much as Clarke liked to reminisce, she knew she couldn’t live in the past. Her life had finally started moving in the direction she wanted it to, minus one obstacle or another. Lexa would always be a part of her somehow and somewhere, she suspects that’s what happens sometime, that some people just become a part of you no matter how much you try and distance yourself and forget.

But Clarke still had to try andlearn to live without Lexa, which is still, after all these years, what Clarke had been trying to do. She had managed, but she suspects that she would always have to try when it came to Lexa. Maybe she could get dementia too, and that way she wouldn’t have to try, but that was a very morbid thought, even Raven said so after Clarke mentioned it one day over the phone.

Clarke had stayed at the memorial a little while longer on the final day of her shift, if she had stayed a little longer, she would have seen a familiar face exit a black Limo, going to pay her respects to Dante Wallace.

It seemed fate had a plan of its own, however. Clarke had tried not to be too suspicious when she heard of Lexa’s relocation to Washington DC, it was probably business formalities or something along those lines.

Though there were rumours, that the Woods Corporation and Lightbourne Industries were working on a major investment agreement. Those rumours were confirmed when an impromptu press conference was organised soon after the memorial. Clarke was at home, watching A Current Affair while enjoying a nice home cooked meal, courtesy of Finn when the anchor began descending into the stock market, and the potential merger happening between two of the countries biggest companies.

Clarke couldn’t really follow much of what the anchor was saying, she was a medical student, not a business marketing student. Bellamy would of had a better idea of what the anchor was babbling about. Clarke was almost tempted to change to channel until some raw footage of a press conference had taken over her screen.

It wasn’t Lexa speaking at first, instead it was a tall, middle aged looking man who introduced himself as Russell Lightbourne, and Clarke wondered whether Josephine had any connection to the man.

“Do we have to watch this, babe? Family Guy starts in five minutes,” Finn moaned from beside Clarke.

“Shut up a minute,” Clarke scolded, whacking Finn’s arm in the process.

She tried tuning back in to the conference, trying to make sense of what she had just missed.

“...and I am pleased to announce that Lightbourne Industries will be partnering with the Woods Corporation from this day foward.”

An applause sounded from around the conference room, and Lexa rose gracefully from her seat, clad in a white button up with her collar popped, and a slim fitting charcoal suit, donning what looked to be a _very_ expensive set of heels.

“Thankyou, Russell,” Lexa commented with a beaming smile. “My father, and his father before him have made sure that the Woods Corporation has always supported and funded the advancements of this country. And what better way to support the success of this country, than to support the people in it. Sadly, thousands of people are dying unnecessarily due to disease and illness. Lightbourne Industries have funded the pathway for medical technologies and therapies since it’s birth, and now, the Woods Corporation will to. In honour of Dante Wallace, from this day forward, the Woods Corporation will work in tandem with Lightbourne Industries to fund a new pathway for the medical advancements of this country. I cannot thank Mr. Wallace enough for his contribution to this company and this country, but I can honour his legacy.”

“ _Babe_ ,” Finn grunted, “politics is cool and all, but you know I love Family Guy,” he plead, casting Clarke his saddest puppy eyes.

Clarke groaned, then relented, handing Finn the remote while muttering, “you sure do, Meg.”

Finn chuckled at the small reference. He left a small present on Clarke’s doorstep the next day. It was a VCR recording, wrapped neatly with a red bow and small note which read;

‘Sorry for making you change channels last night. Here’s a copy of the conference. Watch at your leisure x.’

Clarke would have played the conference recording in it’s entirety, but she had been putting off packing for far too long. As part of their medical school training, the students were given an opportunity to travel overseas to third world countries to provide relief and aid work for a few months, and Clarke had decided to travel to Africa with a Doctor’s Without Borders group.

She was joined by Wells, who had also applied, and one of the fifth year residents at Polis Medical Centre, Roan Queen. Clarke was thankful that Josephine was going to Kiribati instead of Africa, she wasn’t sure she would survive if Josephine had gone with them.

A group of reporters without borders had gone with them, and Emori happened to be one of them. It was good to be able to go with people she actually knew and liked, considering she’d be in a whole new world for months to come.

Abby was apprehensive about the whole ordeal, but Clarke insisted that Abby had once been on a Doctors Without Borders trip, so why couldn’t Clarke as well. It’s not as though she needed Abby’s permission anymore, but she could understand the fear in her mother’s thought process. The woman didn’t want to lose anyone else in her life, which was understandable.

Losing Jake was hard on everyone, but for Abby, losing her husband, someone who had been such an important part of her life, who was the father of her children, it was like learning how to live again. Clarke knew that feeling all too well, but it wasn’t about how Clarke was feeling, this was about Abby.

Loss could never really be compared between people because everyone experienced it differently, and everyone coped and dealt with their grief differently. All Clarke could do was reassure Abby that she would try to write, email and Skype as much as time would allow her. That was all that she could do, after losing so many people, Clarke could never fully promise her safety or life to anyone.

How could you possibly promise something you’re not in control of? It was false hope, and Clarke had seen enough of it around the world. It had worked out well in the end, considering one of Aden’s geography assignments was to pick a third world country and create a research project on it.

Clarke promised she would send letters by the dozen whenever she could to help Aden with his assignment. Africa wasn’t the worst place Clarke could have gone too, of course had to be a level of safety to wherever the Doctors and reporters were sent.

Besides, Clarke was a sucker for warm weather, because warm weather meant the pool, or the beach, or ice cream, but Africa gave a whole new meaning to the word ‘warm,’ being the hottest continent on earth. The group had received a lengthy lecture from the head trauma surgeon about the importance of hydration and sun smart clothing.

Common sense had provided for Clarke though, and she had chosen her wardrobe wisely. She couldn’t exactly say the same for Wells, who had packed a wardrobe meant for the Alps. For someone so smart, he really was clueless at times.

The man released an audible grumble when they deboarded their helicopter, at least up in the sky they had a cool breeze, but down on the ground was like a sauna.

“I hope that’s not all you packed, Wells,” Clarke chuckled. “We might have to provide first aid on you if you’re not careful.”

Wells groaned, already regretting his choice of clothing. It certainly looked like it was going to be an interesting trip.

* * *

**Nine Years Later**

Clarke had been home from her four month Africa trip for just under a year now, still more than relieved to be back in a climate that wasn’t an oven on wheels. Along with her newly discovered gratitude for Washington’s climate, Clarke rocked a hell of a tan when she returned, which only served to make her bleach blonde hair pop even more.

Finn had certainly liked the way Clarke had looked when she came home, although the distance between them had given rise to something which Clarke had never anticipated, Finn had met a woman.

Clarke had skyped, emailed, and wrote letters just as she promised she would, even sending home photo’s and small packages for her brother to use in his research project. Clarke had even managed to forge a penpalship between Aden and a sweet little boy named Zoran, who she had met during her stay in Africa.

To this date, Aden and Zoran were still exchanging letters, and Clarke was pleased to see that the relief her and her team had provided was still paying off in Zoran’s little community.

But amongst all of that, the most surprising thing to have occurred in her absence was that Finn had met a lovely new waitress at the restaurant he worked at. The woman was even more beautiful than Finn had described, and Clarke was happy to let whatever it was between them, revert back to just a friendship.

Clarke still wasn’t ready to take the next step, but somewhere along the line, Finn had decided he wanted to, and Clarke was glad that she was still able to keep her friendship with the floppy haired man. She would definitely miss his cooking, though Finn promised he would still cook for Clarke, because Clarke was utterly hopeless when it came to the kitchen.

She had almost burnt her house down after trying to boil oil in a pot so she could made home made churros one time. Finn had come over just in the knick of time, and after averting the crisis, he showed Clarke the proper way to make homemade churros.

Though, no one was quite as excited about Clarke’s return than Chewie and Elven. Finn had dutifully looked after the furry rascals, and upon coming home, Clarke was met with a barrage of paws, hair and sloppy tongues as her dogs welcomed her home with the most heartbreaking whines Clarke had ever heard.

It was only four months for Clarke, but she couldn’t dare think about how long that must have felt for her dogs. She spent her first night home under her blankets with Chewie and Eleven, and she spent the next year almost, with them tucked in her bed each night as her way of apologising for being away for so long.

But the year had gone quick, and the second Clarke arrived home, she had to work on her applications for her intern year. Chief Jaha was pleased to accept her application to the Polis Medical Centre, along with his son’s application.

Wells still vehemently denied any connection to the chief of surgery, even after all this time. Clarke wondered whether she should just tell him she’s seen the family photo on the chief’s desk more than once, but she wouldn’t want to make Wells feel embarrassed.

Starting her intern year in the clinical setting of the hospital had felt strange, particularly after spending so long in Africa. Chief Jaha had personally commended all the students who had been successful in their intern applications, and Miranda Mason had personally invited the successful applicants to the Polis Medical Centre, out for dinner one night.

It was nice to see and work with Roan again, the easy going man having been elected as chief resident during Clarke’s intern year. While her intern year was starkly different to medical school, Clarke enjoyed every second of it, taking in as many surgeries and experiences as she could.

She worked closely with Cece whenever she could, and she had even built up rapport with one of the orthopaedic attendings, Dr. Tsing. She knew she was only in her intern year, but after her experience in Africa, and her rotation in the paediatric ward with Cece, Clarke knew she wanted to be a paediatric surgeon.

Wells on the other hand had wanted to follow in his not-father’s footsteps, and take up being a cardiothoracic surgeon. Josephine, ever the high achiever, was set on being a neurosurgeon. But those stages of their careers were years upon years away, Clarke was just thankful she had managed to make the cut into her internship at Polis Medical Centre.

One of the reporters who had gone to Africa with them had published a blog, aimed at raising awareness towards poverty and just how much some of the little communities in Africa needed aid. The blog featured new posts every week, of photos, stories and interviews from Clarke’s trip, and even from the group of doctors and reporters who had arrived shortly before Clarke had returned to America.

There was a slide show of photos on the home page of the blog, one of those photos featured Clarke surrounded by a group of little children. Another featured Clarke, sitting alone with Zoran on her lap while they grinned up at the camera, their eyes twinkling with mischief.

After a month of being home, the blog had been a major success, and the reporter had informed Clarke that the blog had already received thousands of votes of support, and hundreds of donations to the small charity which funded the medical aid used by the doctors without boarders group.

What had been most alarming, however, was a single anonymous donation, far greater than all the rest, far greater than all the rest _combined_. The donation was large enough to fund multiple doctors without boarders campaigns. Naturally, Clarke had tried to find out who this anonymous donor was so she could thank them endlessly, but her efforts were unrewarded. Even Emori and her investigative journalisms skills couldn’t uncover the donor.

Instead, Clarke settled with the reporter behind the blog posting a massive thank you letter on the to everyone who donated, hoping the anonymous donor would see. But that was by far the most chaotic thing happening in her life.

It was at the very beginning of Clarke’s first year of residency that the hospital had released an announcement that new investors were looking to purchase the hospital, the medical school, and the university to fund their own research propositions.

There was speculation by the dozen about who the investors were, and even more so about who would inevitably lose their jobs when the anonymous investors decided to cut hospital expenditures.

“It’s a hospital, for crying out loud!” Wells had cried one day, “they need doctors! They need surgeons! They can’t fire us!”

“Calm down, you cry baby,” Josephine had sighed, picking at her fingernails. “They can’t fire us, and they won’t fire us.”

“Oh yeah,” Wells clapped back. “How would you know? Are mommy and daddy the secret investors?” He mocked.

And Josephine just shrugged nonchalantly, like she knew something they didn’t.

Clarke and Wells had decided to take the matter into their own hands that day. They had asked possibly every attending who worked in the hospital, hoping that at least one of them would know something that they didn’t.

It was clear that whether Jospehine knew or not, she certainly wasn’t going to tell Clarke or Wells, she was having far too much fun watching them run headless around the hospital.

“What are you two idiots doing?” She asked one day, pushing a few patient charts away with disinterest.

“We’re trying to find out who bought the hospital,” Wells said, eyeing Cece intently.

Josephine cackled cynically. “ _Still?_ ” She shook her head in amusement. “You guys really are thick headed. We have a charity gala in two weeks. Isn’t it obvious? You’ll find out who bough the hospital then.”

Wells shrugged, still eyeing Cece. “Or we could find out _now_. She’s the last attending on our list, go get em’ Clarke.”

Clarke nodded, then gave a mock salute. “Roger!”

Wells and Josephine watched on from a distance as Clarke enthusiastically approached Cece, swaying on her feet as she produced the most unnatural and guilty looking smile the pair had ever seen.Less than a minute later, she less than enthusiastically prodded back, her tail wedged firmly between her legs.

“So, Cece was a bust,” she muttered, stating the obvious.

“ _Dammit!_ ” Wells growled, stomping his foot. Then he turned to Josephine, a pleading look in his eyes. “Come on Jojo,” he began sweetly, and if looks could kill, he would definitely be dead. “If you know something, you can tell us,” he coaxed, completely oblivious to the fumes radiating from Josephine’s rigid body. “Aren’t your parents important or something?”

“Aren’t everyone’s parents important, Wells? From what I hear, your daddy is the most important man in this place, which begs the question,” she spoke lowly, coming face to face with Wells, “ _why_ haven’t you asked him?”

Wells gulped, and Clarke immediately stepped in between the pair, the tension palpable in the air. “Okay, _clearly_ this isn’t working,” she spoke, eyeing the pair, and Wells looked almost smug for a few seconds before Clarke continued, “but Josephine is right.”

“ _What?_ ” Wells balked.

Josephine smirked, shooting him a wink which was less than kind.

“We need to go for the _big_ guns,” Clarke reasoned.

“That _wasn’t_ the big guns?” Wells asked incredulously, looking at Clarke as though she were speaking a different language.

Clarke shook her head, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips. “No. I’m talking _bigger_ guns,” she whispered, then began marching down the ward.

Josephine and Wells followed in confusion before they pulled up behind Clarke, standing directly outside of Chief Jaha’s office, the man working steadily through a stack of paperwork.

“Wells, you’re up,” Clarke encouraged, patting the taller man on the back.

Wells stuttered, “What? No, I can’t! That would be a conflict of interest.”

“And why would that be?” Josephine asked, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Wells released a loud sigh before slumping in defeat. “Look, it was a miracle for me to get into this program to begin with-“

“That’s for damn sure,” Josephine muttered.

Wells scowled at the shorter girl, mumbling something about how he wasn’t against hitting a woman if it was Josephine. Josephine flicked him the bird in response.

“Don’t you have an enema to perform, Josephine?” Clarke deadpanned, and the girl directed her finger to Clarke instead.

“I can’t just go up and asked my father,” Wells continued, and Clarke turned her attention back to the conflicted man.

“Okay, I’ll ask him, I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” Clarke asked nervously, and Wells gave her a forced smile of encouragement.

Clarke had left Chief Jaha’s office as quickly as she entered. Wells was bouncing on his feet, his hands clasped together eagerly waiting for Clarke to reveal the news.

“So?” He asked, his smile bright and toothy.

“So, it’s Chief Jaha, not Sir, not Mister Jaha, not Mister Chief Jaha, _just_ Chief Jaha,” Clarke rambled, as Wells continued to bounce on his feet, his hope dwindling by the second. “I remind him of his mother- no, my mother, and he also hasn’t received my rsvp to the gala,” Clarke concluded.

Wells gave Clarke a puzzled look, his bouncing all but ceased. “Okay, and what about the mystery buyers?”

“Oh!” Clarke exclaimed, as though she were remembering something important. “Yeah, he said that first year residents shouldn’t be concerning themselves with such trivial matters because there are patients and surgeries out there which need our attention instead.”

“Dammit!” Wells groaned again, crashing his head lightly into the wall. “I thought for sure he would have told you. He always talks about your mother, and I’m pretty sure you’re his favourite resident, no offence Josephine.”

“Offence taken,” Josephine clipped, scowling at Wells’ defeated frame.

“That enema is calling you, Josephine. Tick tock,” Clarke mocked, back pacing away from the livid girl who stomped off in huff.

 As frustrating as it was, Clarke succumbed to the reality that she would just have to wait to find out who bought the hospital. She was sure that such drastic action as staffing reviews would not take effect, but one could never be sure.

She just hoped that things didn’t change _too_ much around the place. Clarke had built up a quaint little life in DC, she loved her house, she loved her colleagues, most of them, she loved her job, and she loved her dogs.

Clarke had finally settled in to her life and was finally starting to make waves, which was how she wanted it to stay. Clarke was content just as she was, and she didn’t want any addition, or any intrusion to ruin that.

* * *

 

It was two weeks later, the night of the gala, and instead of a gown and heels, Clarke had traded in for a doctors coat and some scrubs. Wells had urged her to come, even for just a little bit, but finding out who owned the hospital seemed rather irrelevant, particularly when Clarke’s favourite patient had been readmitted into the hospital.

She knew it was wrong and unprofessional to have favourites, but this little girl was an enigma. She was the strongest little human Clarke had ever seen, and Clarke had felt an odd sense of protection over the young girl. She was very much Clarke’s patient.

Cece had warned her in her intern year about not getting emotionally involved with patients, particularly with paediatric patients. She said it was hard not to sometimes, as the nurturing instinct in most women took control, and it was hard to differentiate between the emotional and the professional.

But she said it was necessary, because if doctors couldn’t seperate their duties to their patients and their emotions for their patients, there wouldn’t be very many doctors in the world. Clarke had listened intently, even when Cece explained that every doctor will get their _one_ , their one patient where that rule doesn’t apply.

Sometimes it ends okay, but sometimes, it doesn’t, and it’s the doctor who suffers when it doesn’t. Clarke had tried her best to keep her emotions in check, but when she was assigned to a young girl with metastatic osteosarcoma, an impending leg amputation and no parents in sight, Clarke’s heart almost broke.

She had taken it upon herself to visit the young girl each day she was working. She would have lunch with the girl sometimes, because social services weren’t always around, and Clarke knew first hand how lonely hospitals could be, especially without a family. She had even spent the most recent Christmas Eve with the young girl, getting her a small pendant with a picture of each of Clarke’s dogs, because the girl _really_ loved seeing pictures of Clarke’s dogs.

She didn’t know why, out of all her patients, she had formed a strong attachment with this one particular girl. Perhaps it was her striking resemblance to another brunette that Clarke tried not to think about, or the way she was fearless and strong, much like Raven, or even the way she loved to watch and re-watch Stranger Things, much like Aden did.

Perhaps it was those little things which reminded her of the people she loved, or perhaps not at all.

Once she had been discharged in the new year, Clarke had made the girl promise to look after herself as best she could, but the chances of that were really slim. So, instead of gowning up for the gala, Clarke was currently siting cross-legged on the end of the girl’s bed, playing with a set of cards.

“Go fish,” the girl, Maddy, said, peaking over the top of her cards.

Clarke hummed, staring at the girl through squinted eyes. “Are you sure you’re not telling fibs this time?” She asked, and Maddy shook her head with a toothy grin.

Clarke picked a single card from the stack of cards. “Seven of clubs,” Clarke said, knowing full well the young girl had a seven of clubs because she saw the card just briefly when Maddy shuffled into a comfortable position on the bed.

“ _Go… fish,_ ” Maddy said, her smile even wider.

Clarke placed her cards face down, staring at Maddy with a crooked grin. “I think someone is telling lies,” Clark teased, crawling forward on the bed.

Maddy’s face drained of colour, and she started stuttering. “What? No, of course not!” She tried unconvincingly.

“You know what happens when you tell lies,” Clarke commented, before she lunged forward and started tickling the young girl relentlessly.

Between fits of laughter and wheezing, Maddy tried her best to stop Clarke’s onslaught of fingers, tangling herself in the blankets as she rolled around in a desperate attempt to escape Clarke’s hands.

“Clarke!” Maddy wheezed, “stop, please! I’ll play fair, I’ll play fair!”

Clarke stopped her movements, her hands just resting above Maddy’s body, ready to return to their previous activities depending on Maddy’s next answer.

“What was that?” She asked.

Maddy rolled around, positioning herself upright in the bed before adjusting her blankets. “I said,” she began with a huff, fixing the pink bandana over her head. “I’ll play fair.”

“Yes you will,” Clarke affirmed, moving back to the end of the bed where her cards were face down.

“Don’t you have that gala tonight?” Maddy asked, after a beat.

Clarke looked at the girl through her eye lashes and shrugged. “I’d rather hang out here with you.”

“That’s not what I asked though,” Maddy pressed.

Clarke sighed, already knowing where the conversation was headed. “ _Yes_ , the gala is tonight, but I would rather be here with you instead,” Clarke repeated, staring at Maddy intently.

Maddy rolled her eyes. “God, you’re so boring Clarke,” she groaned. “You should go, really, go have fun at the gala,” she waved.

“I don’t need to have fun at the gala when I’m having fun here,” Clarke defended, placing her cards face down once again.

“Cause I’m so entertaining,” Maddy commented flatly, and she saw the careful look Clarke gave her. “You don’t think I would go if I could? No offence Clarke, I love your company and all, but it’s a gala!”

“This is why I’m the doctor and you’re the patient,” Clarke stated, moving her legs to the side of the bed.

Maddy chuckled, “this is why you spend your nights talking to children instead of spending them with your friends,” she teased, playing with the cards in her hands.

“Ouch,” Clarke commented, feigning offence.

Maddy cast her a soft look, her eyes pleading with Clarke to be anywhere except by a dying girl’s bed. “Go, I’ll be okay, I promise,” she encouraged, “It’s not like I’m going anywhere. You can tell me all about it tomorrow, okay? I’ll never forgive you if you don’t go, in fact, i’ll hold it against you until I die,” Maddy threatened.

Clarke scoffed, staring at Maddy incredulously. “Way to make me feel guilty.”

Maddy raised her brows, tipping her head slightly. “You should feel guilty, and you have to do what I say anyway. I’m your patient remember?”

“Fine,” Clarke sighed, pushing up off the bed, and moving towards the door. “But I’m checking up on you first thing in the morning.”

“Hey Clarke?” Maddy called after her lightly, her tone more soft and vulnerable. “Can you show me your dress before you go? I’d like to see.”

Clarke smiled reassuringly. “Of course, sit tight,” she instructed before skipping away.

“It’s not like I can run away on one leg can I?” Maddy called to Clarke’s retreating figure.

The dress itself wasn’t all that fancy, just a simple black fabric in a simple modest style that clung to Clarke’s curves in all the right way. The shoulder straps accentuated her collar bones, and the dress supported her bust, leaving nothing to the imagination. The length stopped just at her knees, and to top it off, Clarke wore black strapped heels that clung to her ankles, and a simple black clutch.

Maddy was very pleased with the whole ensemble, and Clarke had gotten more than her fair share of prying eyes from doctors and patients alike as she left the hospital and entered her taxi. The gala wasn’t too far away, enough that Clarke could fix her mascara and eye liner in the back seat without being rushed.

The event was set to take place in a luxurious looking ball room, large enough to hold over two hundred people easily. Clearly the people who had purchased the hospital had a pretty dime to spend. Clarke recognised a few attendings, residents and interns as she weaved through the bodies of people.

She found Wells by the buffet, stuffing his plate with God only knows what.

“Clarke!” He called, his mouth full of food. “You made it.”

“I sure did,” Clarke responded, just as chirpy. “Did I miss the keynote?”

“Just starting,” Clarke thought she heard Wells say, and she rolled her eyes at his lack of etiquette.

She took… something from Wells’ plate, and began slowly nibbling, waiting patiently for the keynote to begins so she could at least say she had attended the event.

There was a large stage with a podium on the side, presumably for whoever had bought the hospital. A few people were already crowded on the stage, talking animatedly between themselves.

As Clarke’s eyes were wandering across the bodies of people, she could have sworn that for a second, she saw a familiar looking face. Curly hair, high sculpted cheekbones, thick lips and piercing brown eyes, she could have sworn that the girl was none other than Luna Rivers, but she was gone before Clarke could get a better look.

Clarke brushed the thought aside, deciding it was just someone who shared similar characteristics, the world was a big place after all. Too lost in her thoughts, Clarke had failed to register that someone else had joined the people on stage, someone clad in an enticing fitted black and patterned suit, with a black silken tie nestled firmly against her collar, the ricocheted clack of her heels the only thing to be heard as the guests started hushing and shushing each other.

She tapped the microphone, and gently spoke, “hello? Is this working?”

Clarke’s eyes snapped up to the sound of the voice. She recognised that voice, she _knew_ that voice, and standing there in all her glory was someone Clarke hadn’t seen in almost ten years, someone Clarke had lost all semblance of relationship and contact with. Standing there in all her glory was Lexa Woods.

Clarke’s breath hitched in her throat, and she could feel her heart beating against her chest with enough force to match the Hulk. She couldn’t be here, she _definitely_ couldn’t be here, not when Lexa Woods, still after all these years, made her feel weak, made her stomach flutter, made her heart fibrillate, and made her head spin like a centrifuge.

Clarke started to weave through the bodies of people, keeping her head down and out of sight. Wells had called after her, but Clarke was only focused on getting the hell away from Lexa, at least until she could calm herself, at least until she knew she was in control of her body, and wouldn’t have to be escorted out by security for looking like that one drunkard who couldn’t control their liquor.

She pushed through the bathroom doors, diving for the paper towels by the sink. She wet a clump of paper towels with cold water and rested them on the back of her neck. She took deep breath after deep breath, focusing on her breathing in the way she would instruct one of her patients with respiratory distress.

She must have spent at least ten minutes in the bathroom, because she heard a loud applause at the end of Lexa’s muffled speech. What were the odds, she thought, that Lexa Woods would buy a hospital, of all hospitals, the one that Clarke worked in, in the state that Clarke lived in, when it had been years since they had last spoken or seen each other.

What were the odds?

Feeling as though she had calmed down enough to convince Wells she was feeling unwell without raising too much doubt, Clarke left the bathroom. In her hasty escape, she came across a waiter with one glass of champagne left on his tray.

Feeling as though a glass of champagne would relax her even more, in case Wells wasn’t convinced so easily, Clarke made a beeline for the waiter, her arm already on the horizontal as she paced towards the man, ready to snatch that Godsend of a liquor from the tray.

As she reached, she saw another hand reaching in her peripheral vision, a feminine hand. Adamant that this was _her_ glass of champagne, Clarke continued in her trajectory, not slowing down, and not even considering to spare the person a glance, _just_ in case it was _her_.

Her hand brushed against the woman’s, and Clarke’s hand fought for dominance over the glass. She more or less snatched the glass vigorously, ready to down the golden liquid until she heard a soft, “Clarke?”

It was then that Clarke decided to spare this person a glance, and she was met with green, a deep vibrant green, a forest green, a green she loved to lose herself in years and years ago, a green she used to dream about years and years ago.

She locked eyes Lexa, the tall brunette gazing at Clarke with curiosity, surprise, and concern, maybe. Clarke wasn’t too sure, only that she started to feel the thumping of her heart again, and the ringing in her ears again, and the trembling of her legs again.

She muttered a quiet, “fuck,” and downed the glass of golden liquid in one go, noticing almost every minuscule change in Lexa’s expression as she became more and more concerned.

Clarke put the finished glass on the tray, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. Lexa hadn’t said anything more, she was simply staring, as though she were struggling to believe that it was Clarke infront of her. She continued staring silently as her eyes travelled along Clarke’s body and over Clarke’s face, almost with a lilt of judgement clouded through appreciation.

“Another drink?” Lexa asked, after an impossibly long minute, and Clarke wasn’t sure whether or not she should stay for that drink she so desperately needed, or whether she should run away, and try to forget all about Lexa Woods and the fact that Lexa was the mystery investor, that Lexa was her new boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa’s story continues next chapter….
> 
> Comments/constructive criticism appreciated :)


	8. 8. I Ran (So Far Away)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa despised that even now, after everything Clarke had put her through, after everything that Clarke made her feel, her heart still well and truly beat for her, even a thousand miles away. She hated that she still longed for the blue-eyed blonde, she hated that Clarke still had an invisible grip on her heart that dictated every choice she made, that influenced and controlled her in every way, and she hated that despite everyone around her offering her their hands, she still felt utterly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: It gets a little dark and twisty in the beginning. Familiar characters make their return and their importance will be uncovered. It only goes up from here, so hang tight!
> 
> Sorry this took me so long, I ended up rewriting a lot from scratch since Lexa’s journey is very different than Lena’s from the original supercorp story. I decided not to repeat any text or written parts, so look back a chapter to the corresponding part if you need a refresher or need to know whats happening.
> 
> A few things popped up which prevented me from really writing anything at all for a while, so apologies. Still, hope you enjoy, and if there is anything you readers feel I need to work on, or need to fix, please let me know kindly in the comments :)

She slept soundly for most of the flight, even after receiving a call from her mother shortly after takeoff while she still had reception. Her mother certainly had impeccable timing to ask Lexa whether or not she was, “absolutely sure you have packed everything, sweetheart?”

She could hear her father grumble quietly in the background, clearly just as displeased, if not more than Lexa was. If she had forgotten anything, it was _definitely_ too late now, though she was sure she had checked and re-checked her bags _that_ many times, that she would know whether or not anything was missing, even though the smallest part of her was screaming at her to turn around, screaming at her that she had missed something, or rather, _someone_ terribly important.

She quickly turned her phone to airplane mode after that to prevent any more disturbances, fearful that her phone might actually cause electrical malfunctions on the twelve ton aircraft, ever one to be superstitious.

As strong as her fear for flying was, Lexa would much rather spend two hours in the air than _two whole days_ on the road, knowing that with the frequency her mother stopped to tinkle, it would indeed be _two whole days_ before they made it to Colorado.

By the time she touched down in Denver, Colorado, the snow had already settled firmly around the runway, and the air was crisp and bitter, with each puff of air she exhaled creating a steamy gleam against the pitch of the night. A driver was already waiting inside the airport hangar, half asleep in a mid yawn before he perked up upon registering the pilot and Lexa approaching him.

Lexa shuffled into the town car, feeling the rock of the car as her luggage was less than gracefully heaved into the boot. She waited patiently for the driver, checking her phone in the meantime, when she noticed a text from Clarke. A simple ‘thankyou,’ sent hours ago but just received was enough to have Lexa smiling from ear to ear.

She considered typing out another text, asking Clarke how her day was, apologising for not being there, apologising for being a thousand miles away, while waiting in the back of a town car in a private airport hangar in Denver, Colorado.

There were a million and one things Lexa wanted to ask Clarke, to tell Clarke, but a million and one things she kept to herself. It would kind of defeat the purpose of moving away, to start anew with a new perspective and a new life, one not full of pain, betrayal, and the tarnished memories she had left of Clarke.

She debated leaving her text thread as it was, with those two simple texts, one from her and one from Clarke, signalling a truce between the pair almost, or a silver lining amongst the clouds that said, ‘everything will be okay. You can do this, Lexa.’

As hopeful as that notion was, there was no changing the past, no changing the need Lexa had to start anew in a life where that pain, betrayal and those tarnished memories didn’t exist. Keeping Clarke’s memory alive would only serve as a reminder, when that was exactly what Lexa _didn’t_ want. She didn’t wan’t a reminder, staring back blank at her face each time she opened her texting application.

With a heavy heart, she swiped left, and deleted the text thread with Clarke, then proceeded to block and delete Clark’s number entirely, erasing the last speck of Clarke from her phone. Erasing Clarke from her life would come later, much, much later, or perhaps not at all. But for Lexa, it was a start.

At least now, she could remember Clarke with those final two texts, in a peaceful kind of separation, as opposed to a violent one.

She arrived at Mount Weather a few hours later in the early hours of the morning, just outside of Greenwood Village. Luna, was already waiting outside, rugged up in the puffiest jacket Lexa had ever seen the girl in. Despite the arctic temperature of the air around them, Luna’s smile was as bright as ever, her warmth colliding with Lexa the second she stepped out of the town car.

The girl was rocking back and fourth on her feet, like a small child at a theme park. Her wild hair was splayed across her face from the strength of the breeze, and her lips were a chattering blue. Though, none of that seemed to bother her once Lexa stepped out of the car.

“You’re finally here!” Luna exclaimed, jumping up and into Lexa’s body, causing Lexa to stumble backwards while her arms secured themselves around Luna’s shivering body.

“Thank _God_ , you’re here,” Luna continued, talking into the junction between Lexa’s neck and collar bone, the vibrations causing a sweet tickle against her neck. “I think my ovaries might have shrivelled up into ice cubes in this weather.”

Lexa chuckled, pulling Luna tighter into the warmth of her heater blasted body.

“It’s going to be better this time round, I promise,” Luna spoke, pulling away from Lexa with a crooked smile.

Lexa nodded, sharing Luna’s smile. “I hope so. Can’t be any worse, right?”

“Right,” Luna agreed, wrapping her arm around Lexa’s shoulder to lead her inside.

It _will_ be better, Lexa told herself, over and over again while Luna lead her through the familiar school, thinking that maybe if she said it enough times, it might just come true.

* * *

The Christmas holidays came and went just as they did every year, only they came and went with one palpable difference, the absence of Clarke. Luna was incredible, she was fantastic company, particularly over the Christmas break when the school was desolate and barren, most students having left for the holidays.

As amazing as Luna was, she simply wasn’t Clarke, and try as she might, Lexa was finding it much harder than she anticipated to pretend as though her heart wasn’t still aching day after day for the girl she left a thousand miles away.

 _What_ was Clarke doing? _How_ was Clarke doing? Would Clarke even answer the phone if Lexa called her?

Despite deleting Clarke’s number, there was no deleting that memory from her mind. She could dial Clarke’s number blind folded if she had to. Not that Lexa would call Clarke, but the thought still crossed her mind. It was more nostalgia than anything, but it was still present. Though, Clarke hadn’t tried reaching out either, even though a part of Lexa wished that Clarke had fought just that little bit harder for her, rather than having given up so easily.

She figured that’s just the way things are, the way things were _meant_ to be. The world was a harsh place, and it’s the people who you love and trust and the most who are bound to hurt you the most, simply because you have given them that power. People aren’t always who you always expect them to be, nor want them to be.

For Lexa, she had learnt this notion the hard way, and all those things her parents told her about being a logical thinker, about using her head and not her heart, about not getting herself emotionally invested finally started clicking into place. But it was Clarke Griffin, _not_ getting emotionally invested in the first place was an impossibility, and Lexa had lost that battle before it even begun.

Though, it made her wonder whether her parents marriage was that of a business relationship or a contract after all, rather than one built on love. The trust was there, but the love, Lexa wasn’t so sure.

Perhaps Clarke finally understood, and Clarke had finally given in as well. Lexa tried to ignore the familiar ache in her heart, because at the end of the day, this was her decision, it was her doing and she had fought tooth and nail for this, she just didn’t expect it to be so hard.

She didn’t expect that Clarke was the type of person to give in so easily. In her mind, she had always associated Clarke as this stubborn, compassionate, relentless and quite literal, woman of steel. Clarke could bend, but she did not break. Clarke would fight, but she did not give in, not until Lexa, that was.

Eventually, the cars began lining up outside the school, girls by the dozen walking in small groups back onto the school grounds, signalling the beginning of the new semester. Lexa sat with Luna in the common room while they waited for her old friends, waiting for the inevitable reunion.

The school apparently wasn’t the only thing that had changed in Lexa’s absence. Luna had revealed some very comical details, outlining that the parents of two of Lexa’s older friends had tied the knot in a secret ceremony, surprising both their children. For Costia and Gaia, the pair resented the idea and their parents decision as well, with Luna quoting that, “when best friends say they want to be sisters, they never mean it literally. Gaia is a great friend, but she’s a shit house sister.”

For Luna, it was endlessly amusing as an onlooker, and Lexa was sure that she would enjoy this change shortly as well, about as much as her old friends were excited about her return. According to Gaia, Costia could not shut up about Lexa’s return all winter break, and she had been counting down the days on a private calendar in her room. That’s if Gaia’s words were anything to go off of.

Of course, the real reunion couldn’t actually compare to the scenarios in her mind, as Costia well and truly tackled Lexa to the floor upon her arrival. Gaia, much more composed than her sister-in-law, welcomed Lexa with a quick hug.

They spent the weekend before school catching up, and exploring the changes to the town of Steamboat Springs, just down the road from where the boarding school was situated. Not that Luna, Costia, Gaia, or Ontari needed to explore, but they did with Lexa.

 _That_ was friendship, Lexa thought, even though it wasn’t in her friends best interests, even though exploring had absolutely zero value to any of them, they stuck by Lexa’s side, not any of them giving up or giving in.

They carried those qualities right through to the end of the year, some more than others. It was in the final few weeks of the semester, Lexa having already begun to pack her bags for her summer vacation to Australia with Luna, when Luna had pulled her aside one night.

She gave Lexa a cheeky grin, and flicked her eyes between Lexa, and where Costia was helping fold a semester’s worth of Lexa’s unfolded clothes. “So when are you going to make a move?” Luna whispered, loud enough that Lexa had to clamp her hand so firmly over Luna’s mouth, for fear that Costia might hear.

“ _Shhh!_ ” She scolded, looking back cautiously to where Costia was none the wiser. “It’s not like that, Luna,” Lexa defended, carefully removing her hand from Luna’s mouth.

Luna scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ve never been a good liar, Lexa, at least not with me,” she said accusingly. “That girl looks at you like you put the stars, the sun, _and_ the moon in the sky, and you’re flirting up a game with her every chance you get.”

“I am _not_ flirting!” Lexa defended vehemently, her eyes near bulging out of their sockets.

Luna raised her brows with a serious expression. “Does Costia know that?”

Lexa gulped, and looked away in guilt.

“Look I get it,” Luna sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “That place really did a number on you, or should I say, that _girl_. But it’s different here, Lex, and if you’re not careful, you’re going to end up doing exactly what she did. I say go for it, but make damn sure that if don’t, or you _won’t_ , Costia knows that too. We’re all friends here, and I’d hate for anything to change that.”

Luna’s words sat with her the whole week, eating away at Lexa until she felt near hollow inside. She hadn’t realised that the way she had been acting with Costia was akin to the way Clarke had treated her. To Lexa, it was just friendly banter, nothing more.

She had considered Costia in more than _that_ way, but history had told her fair and square that nothing eventful ever came from sleeping with your best friend. Costia was gorgeous, not as gorgeous as Clarke, but she certainly had that natural beauty which rivalled Clarke’s, and she had adopted some of Luna’s more finer untamed qualities as well.

That girl seemed to rub off on everyone, in a good way of course, which was why Lexa decided that just as Luna said, it was going to be different, and it was going to be better. Costia wasn’t Clarke, she was nothing like Clarke, so maybe this was the different and the better that Luna had been talking about, and all Lexa needed was the encouraging push to make her move.

On one of her last nights of the semester at the school, she was ready to stroll down the dorm corridor, straight to Costia’s room before she heard a knock to her own door. When she went to answer, the hallway was clear, apart from a letter on the floor, addressed to Lexa in all too familiar penmanship.

She picked the letter up with shaking hands, fidgeting with the paper seal of the envelope before a stray piece of paper fell from the paper confines. She read the letter once, twice, three times, even a fourth, quietly in her head as she shuffled back into the safety of her room and under the security of her bed covers.

She held the letter against her chest, unaware she had started crying until an audible sob left her throat, until her vision started fogging behind the lens of her tears. She was also unaware, so very unaware of how _badly_ she needed this letter, of how badly she needed _something_ from Clarke, _anything_ from Clarke, until it appeared on her doorstep.

She abandoned all thoughts of seeing Costia that night, and slept peacefully with Clarke’s letter beneath her pillow. The next day, she wrote out her own letter, and mailed that privately to Clarke’s return address.

She continued on with the last few days of the semester, her banter with Costia being cut down to the bare minimum. Luna was confused, as was Costia with Lexa’s change of pace, but by the time the semester ended, it didn’t matter, as Lexa was already on board an eighteen hour flight to Sydney, Australia with Luna.

Lexa sent photos to Clarke by the dozen all summer long, and wrote letters by the dozen all summer long. Luna never asked why Lexa visited the post office so frequently on their travels, though Lexa suspected that Luna didn’t need to ask.

By the time junior year started, Lexa was back in her dorm, at her desk, letting Clarke know she was back in the country safe and sound. When she went to sleep that night, she did so excited, excited for all the letters Clarke would have received, and for all Clarke’s responses, wherever and whenever they came.

* * *

**A Year & A Half Later**

She remained hopeful for too long, for far too long, long enough that she began to question her own sanity, long enough that she began to question whether she was paranoid. When it became apparent that either her letters weren’t being delivered, or in fact they were and Clarke just wasn’t responding, Lexa was left in a state of misery.

There was no denying anymore that she missed Clarke more than anything during that first year and a half away. But she wouldn’t go back, she _couldn’t_ go back. Despite fresh wounds being re-opened, and fresh wounds being cut deeper than ever before, Lexa remembered the words her parents used to say.

She called them now, and spoke to them more than she ever had before. Sometimes she called for no particular reason, other than to just hear her parents voice, to have them remind her that she was strong and brilliant, and shouldn’t need reminding so often.

It was something they never failed to do when she called, they never failed to remind her of what she needed to hear. Even though she knew that they knew something was up, even though they were a thousand miles away, Lexa had never felt closer to her parents than she did now. Their actions now were far more genuine than they had ever been, and that’s all Lexa wanted, her parents, not a commander-in-chief.

The truth was, the only real direction left to go when you hit rock bottom is upwards or sideways, never down. At least, that’s what Lexa had thought. It was an uphill climb during the rest of that year and half, and Lexa was supported endlessly by everyone around her. Costia had decided to back off a little herself after junior year began, having stated that she had found a long distance girlfriend over the summer, a girl in her first year of college, Shay.

It was an opportunity missed on Lexa’s part, and she missed the familiar banter she used to have with Costia. Now the girl seemed much more reserved and stoic around Lexa, much how her sister-in-law, Gaia, was all the time. The distance between them didn’t deter either Costia or Lexa, though, and Costia still helped Lexa through to her final year of school, after all, they only had each other since Luna, Ontari and Gaia had all graduated at the end of their last academic year.

Ontari had left as soon as the year finished, more for her own safety than anything else, since Headmistress Diyoza would quite literally kill the girl after her muck up day antics. The Headmistress explicitly asked for there to be no illegal or damaging celebrations by the graduating class during the school semester. Ontari, in perfect Ontari fashion, let those words slip from her very ears, and she ended up having the entire front school lawn bleached a bright blue, and she altered the front of the school sign so instead of it reading ‘Mount Weather,’ it read ‘Mount her Academy,’ with an additional few expletives which were promptly removed by staff.

Although no one could prove Ontari was behind the damage and degrading actions, the Headmistress knew very well she was, and Ontari had fled the school the second she could. Luna was even surprised that the Headmistress was allowing Ontari to graduate, although preventing her from graduating would only mean her return for more damaging antics the next year while Lexa and the rest of them were seniors.

Where Ontari was now, Lexa had no idea. She assumed the girl was off travelling, her parents Nia and Theo Queen certainly had the funds to provide their only daughter for all of her hearts desires, being board members and influential people within the Woods Corporation. It made sense that Ontari was the child to rebel, considering her older brother Roan Queen was studying to be a doctor at some prestigious medical school across the country.

When Ontari finally did send a post card half way through Lexa’s senior year, it was a picture card of Copenhagen, Denmark, and a little scripture that read, ‘miss you, bitch.’

Luna on the other hand had gone in the complete opposite direction to Ontari, and had been accepted into her medical degree at Berkley, with aspirations on becoming a chiropractic naturopath. It was a seemingly unusual career path for the girl, and seemingly contradictory, though it made _some_ sense, considering Luna was very artistic by nature, much like Clarke, and was very physically capable.

Her hands could definitely do _wondrous_ work, at least that’s what Lexa had been told. She never ventured down _that_ path with Luna herself, and for history’s sake, she was glad she didn’t. Though she was sad that Luna would be leaving her during her final year, even though Luna promised she would call, text, Skype and send mail every chance she got.

Gaia had chosen the most unexpected path of all, choosing to study social work while she quietly raised money from charities on the side to open up a small orphanage whenever she had enough funds.

Lexa had wondered why she didn’t just ask her mother, Indra, and her father-in-law Gustus, yet another few names on the Woods Corporation’s board. But Gaia was adamant that this was something she had to achieve on her own, it simply wouldn’t have the same effect if it was handed to her on a silver platter, like most things in her life had been.

It would have been a very uneventful senior year had it not been for the new transfer student, Josephine Lightbourne. Lexa recognised the name from Lightbourne Industries, a well known medtech company which her parents had been privately trying to acquire for almost a decade, how ironic, future Lexa would say. There was no doubt that Josephine was indeed the daughter of Simone and Russell Lightbourne, what with the way she practically smelled like teen privilege.

Many girls who attended the academy came from well to do families, the tuition fees spoke loads about who attended and who didn’t, but there was at least an air of humility and modesty with about ninety-nine per cent of them. Josephine on the other hand, was a whole new entity to be reckoned with.

She was as untamed and ferocious as Luna, but Lexa suspects her agenda was more sinister than that. Even Luna suspected Josephine was a psychopath. It took all of one week since Josephine’s transfer for Lexa and Costia to start calling her the Devil’s spawn. Luna had taken a different approach, and started calling her ‘Hoesephine,’ since Josephine quite literally slept around with anyone and everyone she could, even with the young men from the brother school to Mount Weather.

Luna had quietly discovered that Josephine still had a thing for her ex-boyfriend, Miles, who was three years their senior and happened to be the captain of his senior lacrosse team. Apparently she was sleeping around with the ladies from Mount Weather as some form of revenge.

By those standards, Josephine was the last person Lexa ever wanted to associate with, but the dark truth was, Lexa was more lonely in her senior year than she had _ever_ been before. Her choice to listen to her heart had struck her down once again, and while she had accepted that she would never hear from Clarke again, it was perhaps just another ploy to hurt her further.

Clarke was gone, and Luna was gone, and Costia spent a majority of her time studying or skypeing her girlfriend. She was still there for Lexa in her senior year, but it just wasn’t the same.

It was on the night of her eighteenth birthday that Lexa had surrendered to the Devil’s spawn. Costia had spent the evening with Lexa, sharing a drink down in town. Lexa had pressed against it, but Costia had persuaded the bar tender into allowing them a drink each, since it was a lonesome birthday for Lexa.

Out of pity on the bartenders part, and nothing else, Lexa and Costia shared a drink together, and Costia made sure Lexa had gotten home safely to her dorm. A few minutes after she left, a knock came to Lexa’s door, and Lexa assumed Costia must have forgotten something. Instead of Costia, Lexa was met with Josephine, in a very tempting outfit, a bottle of whiskey in hand, and a dark glint in her eyes.

Lexa couldn’t recall much of the night, only that she was more sober than not when Josephine pulled her onto the bed and pushed her legs apart. She was met with an empty bed, and an empty bottle on her dresser the next morning. Her head hurt, and other parts of her did too, parts she wasn’t comfortable disclosing to Luna in her apology call the next day for not calling Lexa properly on her birthday.

The rest of her year continued in similar fashion, with Costia spending more and more time with her girlfriend on their online dates, and with Josephine making impromptu visits to Lexa’s dorm, with Lexa succumbing each time.

Part of her liked to wish that when she was fucking Josephine, it was really Clarke, if anything, that’s what made it bearable to do. She was sure Josephine knew she was thinking of other women, one woman in particular, but she never said anything, because Lexa would still crawl back into bed with her and let her have her way _every_ _single_ _time_.

Lexa despised that even now, after everything Clarke had put her through, after _everything_ that Clarke made her feel, her heart still well and truly beat for her, even a thousand miles away. She hated that she still longed for the blue-eyed blonde, she hated that Clarke still had an invisible grip on her heart that dictated every choice she made, that influenced and controlled her in every way, and she hated that despite everyone around her offering her their hands, she still felt utterly _alone_.

Even her calls to her parents couldn’t quite cut it, not anymore, not after that final straw, not after Clarke’s final attack.

It’s not as though she ever regretted her decision to move, because she needed to move. Moving was the right thing for her to do, though she regrets her susceptibility to Clarke, and how she so easily broke the promise she made to herself, the promise set in stone to protect her, to keep her safe from ever feeling like this again.

She acknowledged consciously that her sleeping with Josephine had nothing to do with Costia, with Luna, or with anyone around her, but it had almost everything to do with Clarke. Lexa was desperate to feel something, to feel _anything_ resembling how she used to feel with Clarke, and Josephine provided her that company.

Josephine was the relief that Lexa needed, the relief that Lexa had once been for Clarke. The difference was, neither girl cared. To each other, they were neither a person to love, or to make love to, but a person to fuck, a person to use to recharge their batteries before they depleted once again, and then Lexa would go back for more, or Josephine would come back for more.

It affected neither girl, there were no strings attached, no feelings attached. It was purely sensual, purely physical, and it was like coming up for fresh air, because Josephine never complained, no matter how hard Lexa pushed or pulled, Josephine never complained. It was like fucking a sadomasochistic robot, and being fucked by a sadomasochistic robot.

Josephine was there when others were not, Josephine was there when Clarke was not, and Josephine was the perfect vessel to give Lexa what she needed in that time. Josephine made her feel human again, at least for a little while, but most of all, Josephine made her feel like she had a purpose, made her feel like she was _needed_ , and her actions were needed.

And as she continued to allow Josephine into her dorm, as she continued to experience that short burst of pleasure and familiarity before the disgust set in, she watched herself slowly slip away, and the mask finally fall.

Only then was she able to truly forget Clarke. Only then, when she wasn’t herself, did the pain not exist, and did Clarke and her memories of Clarke not exist.

* * *

**Two & A Half Years Later**

Lexa was very resilient and stubborn by nature. Years of gruelling academic tutoring had taught her that, her parents had taught her that, even Clarke had inadvertently taught her that. So when Luna appeared at Lexa’s senior graduation, then proceeded to cart Lexa along to her family cabin for the summer before college, “no if’s or but’s about it,” Lexa was _less_ than pleased.

She was adamant that she was okay and that she was coping, that Josephine was just a phase she would soon get over, even though her actions spoke otherwise. Luna had found out, somehow, about Lexa’s interactions with Josephine, and it took nearly the whole first week of summer break for Luna to be able to look at Lexa without feeling the need to express her strong desires to barf.

Lexa knows, because Luna had made sure to tell her _every single day_. And it took Lexa nearly the whole summer long to realise that her coping mechanisms weren’t in fact coping mechanisms, because she wasn’t coping at all, not even in the slightest.

As a good friend would, Luna confiscated Lexa’s phone, and everything she found that could send Lexa spiralling downwards again. She spent the summer with Lexa caveman style, whether it was hiking the trails around the cabin, kayaking in the lake or river, or shopping in the town, she did anything and _everything_ to keep Lexa’s mind distracted and focused simultaneously.

By the end of the summer, Lexa had thanked Luna, because where she had lost herself, Luna had found her, and Luna had saved her and brought her home, something that Clarke could never do. Though, part of Lexa’s newly formed coping mechanisms were to _not_ compare everything and everyone with Clarke, something she was clearly still working on.

The truth was, Lexa _wanted_ to be better, she _wanted_ to be okay, she just didn’t know _how_ , and along the way she had lost all semblance of herself, she had lost of semblance of Lexa Woods. All it took was a little reminder from Luna for Lexa to realise that the person she had become was _not_ the person she wanted to be, and Luna taught her well.

Luna taught her that her happiness wasn’t dependent on Clarke, or the people around her, but rather on herself, on her own self perception and her own self worth. It was evident that Lexa’s self confidence and self worth was crippling all through senior year, and her antics with Josephine had only reduced the way she thought of herself.

“That girl is the plague, Lexie,” Luna had told her. “You need to learn to love yourself again before others can love you too.”

All summer long, Luna worked with Lexa to help build her up into the person her parents raised her to be, the person Lexa _wanted_ to be, and the person Luna had never given up on, even when everyone else had. Luna worked with Lexa on her college applications too, on helping Lexa find the right degree at the right college, something Lexa had given up on as well during her senior year. She had missed the deadline for semester one applications, but she could still apply for the mid year intakes.

Piece by piece, Luna helped build back Lexa’s confidence in herself, and her trust for the people around her, something which was severely lacking as well. Luna helped Lexa to discover the confidence in herself she never knew she had as an independent and powerful woman. Lexa also understood for the first time that love came in many shapes, forms, and sizes, and it often came in actions rather than words.

And when Luna left her after a summer together, with a soft kiss to her lips, Lexa knew what true love felt like, and she knew that it didn’t have to be some fancy declaration, or some elaborate reveal, it was just being there for someone, and never giving up on them.

It was believing when no one else did, and persevering until the end.

Luna had taught her _a lot_ that summer, but _love_ , that was the most important lesson.

Lexa had gotten her first tattoo that summer, a broken infinity symbol on the back of her neck. When Luna asked her why a broken infinity, Lexa responded simply, “because I’m still in pieces, but I’m working on it. And I have you to help me, always.”

Lexa didn’t necessarily say that Luna was her infinity, but the insinuation was clear, and for once in her life, Lexa hadn’t wished that it was Clarke there to help her, or Clarke to be there to save her. For once in her life, Lexa was truly grateful that Luna was her infinity, but she still had a _long_ way to go.

It had been a long summer, and a long journey, and there was an even longer road ahead, but Lexa kept working on herself, kept working on becoming the person she _wanted_ to be, rather than just settling with the person she had become.

It became easier too, something Lexa never thought was even possible, but she suspects she needed that final wake up call from Clarke to truly let Clarke go, to truly forgive Clarke and to truly move on with whatever came next, that being college.

Every now and again, she would wonder about Clarke, where she was in the world and what she was doing, but she didn’t dwell on her thoughts for too long. That was another lesson Luna taught her, it was good to reminisce, even healthy to reminisce, but Lexa had to know when to let those memories and that pain go.

And when Lexa quietly found out that Luna had befriended a lanky and goofy looking freshman at Berkely, who could have been none other than Jasper Jordan, Lexa chose to sit by silence, knowing that _that_ chapter of her life was over, along with everyone in it.

* * *

College was all knew, stressful, and exciting, when it inevitably began. College, on the other hand, was something that Luna couldn’t prepare Lexa for no matter how hard she tried. Luckily for Lexa, her mid year application to Yale in New Haven, Connecticut was successful, all thanks to Luna. The bad news, Lexa had to work even harder than ever before to graduate on time.

She picked up extra classes, and studied during the winter term. If it wasn’t for a few of the sophomore students catching her up on the first semester curriculum, Lexa was sure she wouldn’t have made it past her first year, or rather, her first semester.

She would have asked a few of the freshman in her semester two classes, but they were practically foetuses, most of them relieved to have even passed their first semester in college, let alone willing or ready to help another freshman. So hitting up the sophomore students seemed like the way to go.

Her mother was proud that Lexa had chosen Law, and her father equally as proud that Lexa had chosen to study Business Administration as well. It made her parents proud to think that one day Lexa would take over the family business, even though at the present time, such endeavours were the furthest thing from Lexa’s mind.

Luna had called her every day, checking in to make sure Lexa was holding up and wasn’t spiralling again. They shared a few giggles when Lexa revealed that one of the second year students, Macallan, had asked her on a date, before Lexa had to awkwardly inform the otherwise attractive young man that she didn’t date men. Period.

They laughed even more when Macallan was gobsmacked after seeing Lexa on a date with the resident sorority sister, Roma Bragg. Macallan was still a gentleman, and he and the other Sophomore, Artigas, continued to help catch Lexa up on the content she had missed in her first semester. Macallan had even taken to being Lexa’s partner in arms when it came to picking up women, a sort of quid pro quo relationship.

Lexa would act as his wing woman, because women were statistically more likely to converse with other women at a frat party than to converse with men, and Macallan would keep Lexa on top of her curriculum, both new and old, that way Lexa could graduate on time, perhaps even earlier than the rest of her freshman cohort.

They worked in tandem all semester long, and Lexa was more than proud when Macallan found himself a girlfriend, Bree, one of Roma’s sorority sisters in her junior year. Lexa, on the other hand, had picked up a little bit of a reputation herself. Her confidence was through the roof, and her self-perception was grander than it ever had been, with each woman that Lexa successfully bedded.

Luna wondered why Lexa still continued with her sexual proclivities, and Lexa responded simply with, “because I want to. I know who I am, and I’m confident that none of these women will want to change me or fix me.”

It was jarring to hear, and left Luna a little on edge for her friend, but it was the truth. None of these women took an interest in Lexa other than her amazing talents in bed, just without the sinister agendas.

And when Lexa finished her freshman year with a stellar GPA, while looking very much like the Lexa Luna remembered her to be, Luna’s concern all but dwindled away, much how Clarke and Lexa’s pain from her had all but dwindled away as she started to find herself again.

Even though none of these women were the right woman, or provided anything but comfort and pleasure, Lexa was still on her path to discovering her new self, and she recognised that while she once thought that loving Clarke, and her love for Clarke was all she had for herself, was what she was destined for, her options now truly were infinite.

* * *

**Three & A Half Years Later**

If Lexa knew how difficult juggling her dual degree was going to be, she would have rethought the whole college thing. She knew that college wasn’t meant to be a breeze, but she didn’t expect to be so utterly swamped in her workload than when she was in her second year.

Although, she couldn’t complain too much, Lexa had brought that upon herself and had spent the entirety of her first summer and winter breaks of college studying extra units. Consequently, she was a semester ahead of her graduating cohort, and was studying units that students in their junior year were studying.

Lexa was by no means a slacker either. She had impressed the school dean and her professors, partly why she was allowed, and able to handle the Everest of workloads, her teachers knew she could do it because she had proven she could. The concepts and logistics in her courses came easy to her, even the mathematical principles involved in her business administration course came easy to her, but Lexa by no means had a photographic memory, and trying to retain all that information for her exams was by _no_ means an easy task.

She found out shortly after completing her winter term units that Josephine had a photographic memory, and was making good use of it by studying medicine. Lexa quietly hoped that she would never be in a position where Josephine was her doctor, because that girl was still the Devil’s spawn.

The thought of studying extra units over her second summer break before her junior year started was tempting enough. It would mean that Lexa was studying an entire curriculum a year ahead of schedule, and her final year could either be slacked off, or she could graduate exceptionally early.

The college didn’t care how their students graduated, or what order they completed their units, as long as they had their unit points. Many of Lexa’s sophomore friends were envious of her determination and resilience, and it was slightly helpful to her already inflated ego. But Lexa was utterly exhausted, and by her Sophomore year, that was _never_ a good thing.

If Lexa didn’t come from a prestigious family and had to work a part-time job while studying, she was sure she would have combusted a _long_ time ago.

She debated whether she even wanted to return to studying once she had finished her undergraduate degree, her parents had certainly given her a lecture on the importance of consolidating her current knowledge, or exploring different post graduate avenues to give her more qualifications.

But again, her parents were thinking _far_ into the future, and it was quite obvious that they were grooming Lexa to become the next CEO of the Woods Corporation, and Lexa didn’t want that obligation or pressure, certainly not when she was only twenty years old.

Lexa was just happy that she had found her niche, so to speak, and she was happy that she had found her place in the world where everything seemed to be settling down the way she so desired it to years ago. She was happy that the world seemed to be slowly becoming a brighter place, at least, that was until she received a courtesy call from Raven Reyes, one of the very last people Lexa ever thought she would see, let alone hear from, over the Christmas break.

The call was quick, and it took only a minute, but it was the slowest minute of Lexa’s life. The surprise in Raven’s voice that Lexa had connected the call was not enough to outweigh what she said next. Lexa called her parents once the called ended, wondering if they had heard the news, wondering if they were going to do anything to support the Griffin’s in the wake of their friend, Jake Griffin’s death.

Lexa couldn’t even begin to fathom how Clarke was handling her father’s death. Even though she knew Clarke had been preparing herself since her father’s diagnosis, death was something that should never have to be anticipated, expected, or prepared for like it was normal, not for anyone involved.

There was no doubt though that Clarke was surrounded by a multitude of people who all wanted to help her or be there for her, Lexa just wasn’t one of those people, not anymore. Sure she wished she could have been there holding Clarke’s hand the way she did after Jake was first diagnosed, but that was a life time ago. Clarke was a different person, and Lexa was a different person too.

But that didn’t stop her from mourning Jake, or paying her respects to the fatherly figure. Lexa spoke to her parents about setting up a scholarship in Jake’s name, for young Law students who possessed the qualities of community, compassion, excellence, dedication and integrity towards their studies and their peers.

The scholarship was anonymously sponsored, so Clarke would never have to know Lexa was involved in paying tribute to her father’s memory. The act was as much for Lexa and her family as it was for Clarke, after all, Jake Griffin was _their_ friend too, and had looked out for Lexa in the past in a way her own father should have been there to do.

She received a text message from Raven in the new year with a location, time and date. Lexa attended the service by herself at the exact time and place Raven had instructed. Why Raven was letting her know, Lexa would _never_ know, and she would never ask, but she was thankful.

She recognised many faces from where she was hidden at the back of the service, and some faces, she didn’t. A tall blonde sat with Clarke at the front of the service, closer to Clarke than anyone else was. When she gave Clarke a quick peck to the lips before Clarke rose to read her eulogy, it became clear what exactly their relationship was.

But Lexa wasn’t there for any other reason than to pay her respects to Jake, she wasn’t there to notice how much Clarke had changed over those few but long, _long_ years. She wasn’t there to notice that Clarke was still exceptionally beautiful, even though her eyes were red and her mascara had leaked down her cheeks.

She wasn’t there to notice that Clarke seemed to be looking everywhere around the room as she spoke, as though she was looking for something or _someone_ in particular, never quite finding them.

She did, however, notice Raven, who had seemingly noticed her too, hiding in the shadows. She watched as Raven whispered something to Abby, and as Abby turned around to where Lexa had sunken even further into the shadows.

Others had yet to notice she was there, but she hoped they would never find out. Raven gave her a nod over the sea of strangers, and Lexa could see the beginning of a small smile on Abby’s lips. She wondered whether they would tell Clarke she came, or whether it was enough that only they knew.

Lexa left the second Clarke’s eulogy finished, without ever finding out if Clarke knew or not, and she told herself that it didn’t matter, not anymore.

* * *

**Four & A Half Years Later**

The only thing which really disgusted Lexa more than Josephine Lightbourne, was the tabloids, and dirty paparazzi. Josephine had at least disappeared after Lexa finished her senior year, so Lexa only had to engage with her for a short while.

She felt sorry for those who were attending the same classes as Josephine, wherever she was studying in the world. She’s not entirely aware why she dislikes Josephine so much, perhaps it was because Josephine was fuelled by Lexa’s depression and despair when Lexa was at her most vulnerable, simply for her own game.

Or perhaps it was because Josephine was a selfish, snobbish and spoiled brat who would be the first person to walk all over someone else if it meant saving her own ass. But where Lexa only had to deal with Josephine for a year, there was no escaping, and no hiding from the brutality and persistence of the tabloids.

Luckily for Lexa, she had been sheltered most of her life, her parents copping the brute force of the media instead. It was very rare that anything discrediting or damaging actually surfaced about Lexa’s parents, or the Woods Corporation anyway.

Just fluffy gossip pieces of wannabe journalists trying to make a name for themselves by creating a false article. Lexa’s parents had a special kind of lawyer reserved for the paparazzi and journalists who falsely tried to ruin them. Occasionally, a more accredited piece would surface, one they couldn’t do anything about except wait.

People would talk and people would speculate for all of a few weeks before the media refocused on a new talk of the town, the latest Kardashian meltdown. Never though, in all her parents years, had something so grand, so implicating, so scandalous, and so discrediting surfaced which threatened the entire future of their company and their careers.

It was in the early days of autumn, Lexa was studying senior year content in preparation to graduate, despite still being a junior, when she received a frantic call from her parents warning her not to leave the college campus.

Lexa was disturbed, and thoroughly confused by her parent’s worry and odd request. It became apparent just how serious the situation was when Lexa was escorted by campus security through a hoard of paparazzi who had been camping outside of the college grounds, hoping to question Lexa on the accusations about her father.

Still clueless to what exactly was going on, Lexa was met by her parents in the back of a town car, and by Luna, who was sitting uncomfortably with an uneasy smile.

“What’s going on, dad?” Lexa asked her father, who was staring blankly out of the tinted window.

“We’re going to New York, Lexie, and we’d like you to finish the rest of your school year at our secluded estate upstate. Luna here has agreed keep you company,” Grayson replied vaguely, gripping his wife’s hand.

Lexa watched the silent exchange between her parents with utmost concern, because never had she seen her parents so unsure and fearful before. “You still haven’t answered my question,” Lexa pressed. “What’s going on?”

“Your father is retiring from his position as CEO. There have been some… _allegations_ ,” Lexa’s mother confessed with an uneasy distaste, clearly disturbed to her core about whatever they were shielding Lexa from. “All will be explained in time, dear.”

Her mothers words were less than comforting to Lexa, and by the time they arrived in New York a couple hours later, Lexa was well aware of the dire situation which was unravelling and setting up camp directly on top of her family.

They stopped outside of their New York building, Lexa following in quickly behind her parents. She waited outside a meeting room on the top floor for what seemed like hours, Luna at her side filling the silence with anything and everything she could, including the fact that she had spontaneously bought two little “cloud floofs,” or Samoyed’s, as Lexa had corrected before Luna swatted her and told her vehemently that they were “cloud floofs.”

Her parents had exited the meeting room with vague expressions, motioning for Lexa and Luna to follow so they could make their haste escape. However, word had already spread of her parent’s arrival at their New York offices, and Lexa, registering the very stress and fear emanating from both her parents, told them to go straight to the car.

“Think of this as my training wheels moment,” she said light heartedly. “If I mess up, it can’t get any worse. If I don’t, it still can’t get any worse.”

“Your logic is very floored, Lexie,” Grayson had muttered, before ushering his wife through the revolving doors at the front of the lobby.

And Lexa handled the paparazzi with grace, her father commending her once she rejoined them in the town car.

She did as her parents requested, and spent the rest of her academic year studying in their upstate estate. Luna joined her for the first few weeks, and they spent their days fawning over Luna’s puppies, Nimbus and Cirrus.

“I see what you did there,” Lexa commented slyly, when she was first introduced to the fluffy creatures. Apologies, “floofs.”

Once again, Luna was fantastic company, and Lexa had missed her friend, her _best_ friend, more than she could have ever of imagined. She was a little startled to hear that Luna’s little sister, Adria, had found herself a boyfriend, because nine-year old’s apparently did that nowadays.

Luna had met the little man a few times, a small blonde haired, blue eyed boy who was far too tall and far too lanky for his age, but he had a charm and a wit well beyond his years. “Aden,” Luna had said, after thinking for a minute.

When Lexa asked if Luna had a picture, and Luna procured one of her sisters and a much bigger, but still little Aden Griffin, Lexa near felt her heart implode in her chest. The little man was the spitting image of the way Clarke used to look, he could have even passed as a little Clarke if he wore a wig.

What was even more baffling to Lexa was the fact that Aden apparently resided in Washington State. She wondered whether he had moved before Jake’s passing, after Jake’s passing, or very recently. More so, it made her wonder if in fact the Griffin family had moved interstate before Jake, was that the reason Lexa never heard back from her letters to Clarke, because her letters never made it in the first place.

It made her wonder after _all_ this time, had Clarke been the one thinking that Lexa had just ignored her and abandoned her after she reached out. Though, that was years and years ago, and there was nothing Lexa could do about the past, not now.

It’s didn’t stop Lexa from asking her mother one night, about the Griffin family, after she told Lexa that Abby Griffin sends her well wishes and a speedy recovery from the scandal. Apparently her mother and Abby had become quite the phone pals, and had been calling each other each week since Jake’s passing, something which was a first for Lexa to hear.

She knew from her mother that Abby was still practicing, not as a surgeon, but as a medical doctor and surgical consultant, and she knew that Clarke had taken up in her mother’s footsteps and was studying medicine at some prestigious college, even though Lexa assumed Clarke would have taken up a degree in the arts. She knew that, like Aden, Clarke was seeing someone, a someone she had been seeing for a few years now, the same woman Lexa had seen at Jake’s funeral.

Purely from nostalgic jealousy, that new piece of information left Lexa feeling a little uneasy, though she knew she had no right to be. She was proud though, of all Clarke had achieved and all she was yet to achieve. Clarke’s strength and resilience still amazed Lexa, more than anyone else. Even after all this time, with all this space between them, Lexa knew that Clarke would always hold an important place in her heart, no matter what she thought or tried to convince herself of.

No matter how much she tried to continually live by her parent’s rule, Clarke _had_ always and _would_ always hold a place in Lexa’s heart. Thankfully, the Griffin family still didn’t know about the small scholarship that was funded by the Woods Corporation, and the last thing Lexa needed was Clarke thinking that in Lexa’s family doing so, it was out of pity.

Much how the last thing Lexa needed was Clarke reaching out to her after all these years out of pity as well. Secretly, Lexa was sure Abby knew, she always was far more perceptive than most people around her.

If asked, Lexa would deny it, but she had been keeping tabs on all her old friends from Arkadia, checking up on them every now and then. Ontari, as it turned out, knew her way well around the system, and was just as good at locating and finding information as she was at royally pissing people off who she despised.

Luckily for Lexa, she happened to be one of the very few people in the world who Ontari adored, and whenever Lexa asked, out of sheer curiosity, and only curiosity, Ontari would provide. Lexa was proud of all her older friends, of how far they had all come over the years. She was proud of everyone, and proud of Clarke.

She was mostly proud of Bellamy for some odd reason. She thought that flake would never settle down, but his social media was full of sappy love quotes and sappy letters of love for his girlfriend Echo. She figured he would have slept his way through whatever state he resided in, having been a big football star and all by now.

As it turns out, not everyone is who you expect them to be. She doesn’t know what happened to put a dent in Bellamy’s career, nor does she particularly care. It was just interesting to see how much the people she used to know had changed, how much she didn’t know them at _all_.

She wished her contact with the remaining Arkadian’s was more than just cyber stalking from the shadows, but Lexa had chosen her path, and she was walking it until it finished. Some things she knew she _could_ have done differently or better, some things she knew she _should_ have done differently or better, but others, she wouldn’t have changed for the world.

Things like reconnecting with Luna, and travelling to Australia was definitely at the top of her list of things she would never have wanted to change. Lexa had forged a new life, and for once, she was glad that she had. She was light years away from the immature teenager she had been years ago.

Even though she wasn’t _that_ much older, her time away from Arkadia, and her time away from home while she learned to love herself had opened her eyes wider than they had ever been before.

Lexa still had a lot to learn, she was still a foetus in the big, wide world, but she was much wiser than she was before. Most of that could be accredited to the people who helped her through the dark days, Luna especially, but Lexa was proud to admit that her growth into the young lady she was today couldn’t have been possible without herself.

 _People_ can only help so much.

It’s up to the _person_ to make that design themselves.

She also knew Aden was ecstatic about having his first girlfriend, and he couldn’t stop gushing to his mother about how beautiful she was. Good man, Lexa had thought.

Despite her utter shock, Lexa noticed one very important detail, and that was that Aden looked _happy_. After everything the little man had been through, Aden looked happy and Aden looked strong, and Lexa hoped that wherever she was, Clarke was happy and Clarke was strong too.

Though she didn’t have to wish or hope too hard, she knew that wherever Clarke was, she was _okay_ , Clarke was _always_ okay. Without revealing her familiarity with the boy too much, Lexa commented that whoever he is, she was sure he would always watch out for Luna’s sister.

Luna had looked at her oddly, because, well, they were _nine_. But Luna, ever perceptive, could tell there was a different kind of weight behind Lexa’s words, and she didn’t press on the matter.

Luna left after a few weeks, heading back to campus to do her clinical hours. There wasn’t much Lexa could do all by herself at her parents estate. The place was large enough for over a hundred people, and there were activities galore ringing at her front door, but Lexa was all alone, again.

Physically at least, Lexa had strengthened her mind and knew that she wasn’t _really_ alone.She knew that she had to do this to help her parents, to put their minds at ease for the time being.

It helped her in terms of studying, Lexa could study through more content in the silence of her parent’s estate than she _ever_ could in her dorm, but she missed the interactions with other students, and of all things, she missed the campus coffee. Even though the campus cafe made coffee which tasted akin to mud water, Lexa still missed it, along with the few people here and there she used to associate with, and the few people she _actually_ enjoyed studying with.

But she knew that for her parents sake, and for her own best interests, she had to lay low until the malicious scandal eventually blew over. Despite what many people assumed, being the daughter and sole heir to the Woods Corporation was not as glamorous as people made out to be.

Her parents never ending schedules had cost them a proper relationship with Lexa, and it had cost Lexa her childhood. Granted, they were rebuilding their familial relationships, and Lexa felt closer with her parents than she ever had, but it hadn’t always been bliss.

Everything her family did was under a microscope, to be scrutinised, torn apart and reshaped into whatever was next on the tabloids agenda, for however they wanted to brand someone next.

If her father so much as farted in public, some airhead somewhere would probably release an article along the lines of, ‘CEO farts in public. Could this be affecting the integrity of our ozone?’ or, ‘CEO farts in public, there ensues global warming catastrophe.’

In retrospect of her lacking relationship with her parents, their absence had brought the attention away from Lexa, and Lexa was very much shielded from it all when she was a child. She was still left relatively alone, though, now people knew of her, from the short statement she made on behalf of her parents.

Now people knew who she was and the media had already formed their opinion on her. Lexa tried not to read the articles released about her parent’s scandal, and the very vague statement she made, but it was hard not to when curiosity got the better of her.

It was hard to fathom that people who had no idea who she even was, had so much to say about her character.

She knew that her parents had only ever had her best interests at heart, and she knew that her parents were wise in their decision to appoint Dante Wallace as the new CEO instead of their unprepared daughter, and she thanked them for it.

As much as Lexa could tell her parents wanted that position to fall onto Lexa, she was still a kid, still new to the world and still had so many things to learn and so many things she wanted to do before she settled down.

Being CEO was not a vacation, it was a long term commitment, it was the definition of settling down, of settling down into a world of chaos. Being CEO could come later, but for now, Lexa just wanted to live, and forget once again about all things Clarke, and all things Griffin.

* * *

**Five & A Half Years Later**

It was strange, being back on campus, graduating with people she didn’t know simply because they were all originally part of the graduating class above her. Luna had been there, along with Costia, who Lexa hadn’t seen or spoken to in who know’s how long. Ontari had also made a brief appearance before Lexa caught her scantily leaving with two men on either arm.  
****

She chuckled to herself, because that’s exactly something Ontari would do. Gaia couldn’t make it, unfortunately for Lexa, who was hoping for a nice little reunion with her old friend. She was however surprised and proud to find out that Gaia had been talking with many of the charities who sponsored her, and had been able to acquire a bank loan to purchase and furnish an old library to turn it into an orphanage.

On the other hand, Lexa was fortunate that Josephine was no where to be seen, hopefully failing medicine somewhere, because Lexa _really_ was concerned about the patients and future of the medical profession with Josephine as a doctor.

Lexa had been commended heavily for her efforts towards her studies during the ceremony, and she had received a scholarship should she desire to begin her postgraduate or honours degree.

She had considered it for a while, and had spoken it over with her parent’s. Lexa decided she would return to college to study her post graduate in International Relations and Foreign languages, if need be, she could study online part time after that, to achieve more in her Law degree, because a Bachelor in Law was worthless.

Thankfully, _all_ her postgraduate study had taken the form of online learning, course work she could complete while shadowing Dante Wallace. Her parent’s had even tasked their most trusted advisory and friend, Titus Trikru, to teach Lexa how to navigate the in’s and out’s of the corporate world.

She had been swamped down since the beginning of her post graduate studies, rarely finding the time for recreational activities. Her family’s reputation had since recovered somewhat from the scandal, and Dante Wallace had been carrying on the Woods legacy until the time Lexa would be ready.

He had made some questionable decisions at the beginning of his appointment, but since then, he had been repairing the Woods Corporation to it’s former glory. Although, Dante had been making some odd transactions in recent months, donating most of his salary towards charities and children’s hospitals.

It was all for a good cause, and there was no way Dante would leave any inheritance for his son, Cage, but the behaviour was odd to say the least. Dante had even given a promotional pay rise to some of the Woods Corporation’s longest standing employees, and Lexa was sure that the money came from Dante’s pockets as well, because when she checked the company’s transactions, there was no record of said promotions.

Lexa wondered whether that was even legal to begin with.

She knew that Titus’ appointment as her teacher had been very much set in place for her to assume the role of acting CEO when the time came, and for some reason, she had an inkling that her time would come sooner rather than later.

There was no doubt that Dante Wallace was an aged man, perhaps the eldest of all the Woods Corporation’s employees, let alone the board members. He carried himself well, and never said anything, though Lexa picked up on the little things she probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been looking for them, the odd and charitable behaviour definitely caught her attention.

Lexa never mentioned anything to the man, because that was his business, but Lexa couldn’t help but feel as though Dante was hiding something, a _big_ something, and was putting on a brave face for the cameras and the corporation.

Lexa did, however, mention something to Titus, and Titus responded in riddles as he always did, which only served to confuse Lexa more so. She was confident though, that if there was anything wrong with Dante, the _right_ people knew.

She was surprised when she received an invite to the welcoming home celebration of Harper and Monty’s first born son. She recalls receiving a baby shower invitation only a few months ago, but if she were honest, so much had happened in those short few months that Lexa had even forgotten the couple were expecting.

If anything, she was surprised they were _still_ together, she was surprised that entire friendship group was still together. Usually when people move off to college, they move out of each other’s lives, and make new friends to celebrate with.

Lexa hadn’t spoken with a single soul from Arkadia in years, not since Raven just after Jake Griffin passed away. She was surprised that Harper and Monty even considered her, even remembered her as their friend, seeing as how they were never really close to begin with.

Lexa was never really close with anyone from Arkadia, probably only Clarke and that’s it. As much as she wanted to see some of those people from Arkadia, it was an impossibility with her commitment to her work with Titus and her studies. She was still completely and utterly swamped with her commitments, and no bouncing baby boy could change that.

She did however spend her afternoon searching for the biggest and best sleeping cot she could find, one that could provide the little boy all the comfort he could ever imagine. She spent more money on it than she would ever admit, and she had it promptly delivered to the address provided on the invitation, along with a collection of children ’s books to keep the little man busy for a long while to come. 

If she couldn’t be there to meet the little man himself, which she no doubt wanted because who could ever resist a baby, especially little Jordan Green. She could tell already that the little man would grow up to be a heartbreaker, nevertheless, she’d make damn sure the little man still knew _who_ she was even, if he didn’t quite realise it.

Part of her wished that she had never grown up, that she could be that small again, that she had stayed as an eternal baby. Everything is easier when you’re a baby, you’re completely unaware of everything around you, at least it seems that way when your memories only really appear out of thin air when you’re a toddler.

Being a baby again would be living the life, Lexa thought. No waking up at the ass crack of dawn to start her day at her parent’s company, no lectures from Titus, saying the same damn thing at least ten different ways before Lexa announced she needed a bathroom break, which took _absurdly_ long. She was sure Titus thought she had irritable bowel syndrome or something.

Back then, she was always surrounded by people who loved her, until her parent’s started disappearing. Even though she hadn’t met Clarke yet, she was still surrounded by the warmth and love that every little human needs. She wasn’t a hormonal and impulsive teenager either, sleeping with her best friend, then packing her bags to move across the country to start a new life where all that never mattered.

Growing old sucked, and growing up sucked. It was ironic to think that back then, all Lexa wanted was to grow up, to be an adult so her parents wouldn’t have to leave her all the time, so she wouldn’t have to go to school everyday. It was the little things that made Lexa wish she had never wished those year away in the first place, because Lexa would resume her diaper days in an instant if it meant being spared another one of Titus’s lectures.

She’d asked her parent on the phone one evening, “does Titus always talk so much?” Because it really had gotten to the point when Lexa returned home to her apartment in New York, settled in to bed after a steaming shower, and she could still hear the phantom echo from one of Titus’s lectures.

On more than one occasion, she had swept her apartment just to make sure Titus wasn’t quietly hiding in one of her cupboards.

Whenever Lexa did have spare time to herself, she was usually at the bar chatting up a storm with the attractive bartender. She wasn’t necessarily bringing women home like she used to, but every once a while an attractive girl would catch Lexa’s attention.

Otherwise, she was bustling around the office alongside Dante Wallace, with Titus a constant presence over both shoulders. Lexa was determined to say something one day until the unimaginable happened when Dante Wallace feinted outside of his office.

Titus had called an ambulance, and Lexa her parents. It was kept relatively on the down low, with only a few employee’s actually seeing, or being aware of why paramedics were escorting their CEO from the building.

After a long stay at the hospital, and an even longer conversation with her parents, Lexa realised that the time to come when she would need to step up, was closer than she had thought.

* * *

**Six & A Half Years Later**

She was surprised how long he lasted, for how much longer old Dante Wallace kicked on after his hospital stay. He was discharged against medical advice and resumed his role as acting CEO of the Woods Corporation, against Lexa’s parents advice as well.  
****

The man was certainly determined to live the rest of his life the way he desired, not hooked and attached to monitors and machines. Lexa’s parents asked her to keep a close eye on him at the office, and asked her to take more initiative in the handling of business affairs, something Lexa knew would be her sole responsibility soon enough.

Dante remained brave for the cameras, smiling and laughing whenever the world watched him, but behind closed doors, he was a deteriorating man.

On one of his last nights, he’d asked Lexa to stay behind, well behind until everyone else had left. He took her through the company’s directive, something Lexa would need to be aware of soon enough. He took her through his personal will as well, something Lexa wondered why she had to be involved in.

It became a apparent when it stated in his will that he wanted his body donated to science, all his assets to be liquidised, and his wealth divided between the same company directive he had discussed with Lexa, and handful of charities. It also became apparent why Dante would have wanted to take such a monumental leap from the Woods Corporation’s current investors and partners.

So, Lexa promised that when the time came, she would do everything in her power to fulfil Dante’s will.

She received a call from her mother a week later, bringing the news that Dante was discovered unconscious in his penthouse in the early hours of the morning after a massive aortic dissection.

She was called into the office later that same day, to sign the paperwork signifying that she would assume the role as CEO for her parent’s company. A week later, she was sitting alone in her new office, at Dante’s grand wooden desk, staring at an unfinished landscape on the wall he must have started but never finished.

She didn’t have the heart to change anything, to have anything removed from his office, _her_ office, not just yet. So she sat there, quietly wondering how she would ever be able to live up to the legacy old Dante had left behind.

Titus had advised Lexa that in the few months following Dante’s death, while the public mourned, statements and interviews from the Woods Corporation’s employee’s should be strictly prohibited, including from Lexa herself.

He had said that the country wasn’t ready to know that a twenty-something year old girl had taken the monumental responsibility as CEO over one of the largest, most profitable and respected company’s in the country.

He said that when they were, Lexa would be the first to tell them, but until then, let them mourn Dante a little longer.

His advice had worked, because when it was finally announced in a single statement to a range of nation wide outlets, there was less of a backlash than Lexa had thought. She received more than her fair share of disgruntled opinions from the public, but Lexa would have to get used to disappointment from people from now on. Not everything she would come to do would please everyone.

Though, she had received more words of support and encouragement than she had previously assumed. Luna was ecstatic when Lexa called her to tell her the news. She was devastated about Dante, but claimed she always knew that Lexa was destined for greatness.

Costia, Gaia and Ontari had all called and given their words of support to Lexa. Even though she had been showered in support from the people closest to her, Lexa still felt like _something_ was missing. She still felt like she was still waiting for a phone call, waiting for someone else to call her and say, “you can do this.”

She knew very well who she was quietly waiting for, and she tried with all her might to stop the nagging of her heart in the forefront of her mind, but it proved to be harder now than it had been before.

She thought that maybe if she just _saw_ Clarke, after all these years, maybe if she just saw Clarke it might settle the churning of her heart. Though, Clarke was living in Washington DC and attending medical school the last Lexa heard, and Lexa had no reason to go there, and she was positive that there were people waiting outside her building in New York on a daily basis, waiting for her next move.

That was, until Lexa was coincidentally given a reason in the form of Josephine Lightbourne. She hadn’t heard from, seen, or even thought longer than a minute about the girl since high school, not until Josephine was knocking on Lexa’s office door, a sly smirk playing on her features.

“Lexa,” Josephine greeted, a smug grin settling on her face.

“Josephine,” Lexa responded, not even looking up from her desk.“Who let you in?”

“Your assistant. She seems friendly,” Josephine shrugged, pulling out the chair opposite Lexa’s, dragging the metal legs along the floor so she made an almighty screech.

Lexa looked up then, glaring at Josephine through the slits in her eyes. Josephine on the other hand looked undisturbed, her arm resting casually over the back of the chair. “Success looks good on you, and so do those pants,” she commented idly, “would you mind turning around for me?”

“I’ll call security if I have to, better yet, I’ll call the pound,” Lexa quipped back, clasping her hands together on the desk.

Josephine rocked forward, uncrossing her legs and imitating Lexa’s posture upon the grand wooden desk. “Feisty. I like it. It is good to see you, Lexie-“

“Lexa,” Lexa corrected in a clipped tone.

Josephine’s smirk widened. “Lexa… I always did have a thing for you, then again so did our entire cohort.”

Lexa sat there unchanging, eyeing Josephine with a vigour. “I’m about five seconds away from picking up this phone,” she threatened.

“Right, not in the mood for small talk,” Josephine mumbled, rolling her eyes. “I’ll cut right to it,” she sighed, “I presume you’re aware of who my parents are, and their contributions towards society?”

“I am,” Lexa commented flatly.

“Well, courtesy of them, I have a proposition for you.” Josephine reached into her handbag and procured a manilla folder, tossing it onto the table in front of Lexa.

Lexa eyed her suspiciously, her elegant fingers dancing over the front of the folder.

“You don’t need to look at it immediately,” Josephine continued, “but if you’re interested, give the number on the inside a call.”

Lexa tossed the folder back, then reclined in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She quirked her brow, analysing every one of Josephine’s movements. “I can’t tell if you’re up to something, and you’re using your parents as a cover.”

“No bullshit, I swear,” Josephine said vehemently, and Lexa _almost_ believed her. “Believe it or not, even if I had an agenda, I still have a heart, and the benefit for everyone with this proposal will certainly outweigh my benefit, or not, I haven’t found out yet.”

There was something about Josephine’s grin that didn’t sit right with Lexa, then again, none of Josephine ever did.

“I’ll take a look,” Lexa said cautiously, reaching for the folder again. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Always sweet with the goodbye’s,” Josephine ridiculed, reaching for her bag.

She didn’t look up when she heard the tell tale sounds of Josephine’s heels fading away towards her office door, not even when she called, “take care, Lexie loo,” in an irritatingly high-pitched whine of a voice.

She didn’t look up when she heard Josephine tapping on her door with her exceedingly long manicured nails, or when she muttered, “still won’t turn around?”

Instead, Lexa picked up her phone, already on speed dial as she said, “hi, security please.”

She did look up just in time to see Josephine scurry away, the sounds of her heels fading away at a more than satisfying pace.

At the end of the day when Lexa was packing up her office, she tucked the folder away into her bag. She read through the proposal that night over a bottle of wine, already making the necessary calls to organise a meeting with the Devil Spawn’s father, Russell Lightbourne.

* * *

**Seven & A Half Years Later**

She was greeted by Luna on her arrival, apparently moving to Washington DC had it merits after all. Luna was currently working as a consultant registrar at the Polis Medical Centre due to her impressive study conducted on in-patients at the hospital the previous year.

Chief Jaha was exceptionally impressed by Luna’s work, and had offered her a staffing position almost immediately. The hours were great, the pay was great, and the reputation of the hospital was great. Luna had practically hit the trifecta.

She had set up her belongings at Luna’s apartment initially, because Luna refused to have Lexa stay in a hotel. “CEO, shmee-ee-oh. I don’t care if you’re the Queen of England, you’re not staying in a hotel when I spent all this money on a savoir mattress.”

“Just look at it, Lexa,” Luna had said, “can you hear it whispering, ‘sleep on me, Lexa. Sleep on me, Lexa.’ Because I can.”

Needless to say, it was an argument that Lexa couldn’t win, and Luna’s bed _really_ was the most comfortable mattress she had _ever_ slept on. Even Lexa hadn’t invested so much in a mattress for her apartment back in New York. She definitely made a note to go mattress shopping when she had the time, and apartment hunting, she knew she couldn’t live with Luna forever, no matter how much Luna assured her it was okay.

Part of Lexa suspects that Luna was a little lonely, the girl hadn’t been in any _serious_ relationships since ever practically. She’d had some small relationships, flings really, which only lasted a few months at most. They were the kind of relationships where Luna wasn’t sure whether she was actually dating, or whether she was still single.

Lexa had told her that if she’s under the impression it’s a proper relationship and not some ‘no strings attached’ contract, then that’s _not_ how a relationship should feel. She also said that if Luna had to question it, that should be answer enough.

Of course Luna still had her dogs, Nimbus and Cirrus, and they were the most pampered dogs Lexa had ever met, but she suspects that Luna was missing that human touch.

When she asked Luna why she never tried to pursue anything more seriously, as Luna was an incredibly attractive women and probably had people lining out the door for her, she responded, saying that nothing ever felt as though it was right, something still felt like it was missing.

Lexa knew that feeling _all_ too well, which is why she didn’t probe Luna any further. She simply let Luna hug her a little _too_ tight and a little _too_ long whenever she needed.

But that wasn’t the sole reason she’d moved to Washington DC, no, Lexa had decided that, after many a phone call to Russell Lightbourne, she would take the man and his company up on his proposal, it was what Dante Wallace had wanted after all.

It wasn’t Dante’s specific proposal, but it was a proposal which could achieve what Dante had set out to do before his untimely passing. Speaking of Dante, a memorial service was being held at the Meridian Hill Park, courtesy of Russell Lightbourne.

Lexa had thought, long and hard about attending the memorial service. It’s not like the media weren’t already aware that Lexa had uprooted her offices and relocated to Washington, why though still remained a mystery, and Lexa wanted to keep it that way.

So she thought long and hard about whether attending the memorial would cause more of a stir than it should, after all, it was a memorial service for Dante Wallace, not an opportunity for Lexa to grab more media attention, and she just knew that reporters would be camped out there waiting for her.

She decided paying her respects to Dante again in private would be better.

Her meeting with Russell Lightbourne had come sooner than anticipated, as the man was hounding Lexa to meet up before her plane even landed. She’d read over his proposal a few times, and she was mostly happy with it’s contents, except for one major, _major_ proposition.

Lightbourne Industries didn’t have the necessary liquidity or revenue for the purchase of a hospital, it’s medical school and it’s university, much less an established program like the well-known one Polis Medical Centre was known for. Polis was, without a doubt, one of the biggest health enterprises in the country.

That’s where Lexa’s company came in, and she knew that very well. It was a tremendous investment to make, and a tremendous risk to take. If Lexa didn’t have the future of her company and her employee’s to worry about, she would have signed the contract in a heart beat, but the acquiring of an entire surgical hospital, medical school and university was perhaps the largest investment the Woods Corporation would make to date, and Lexa didn’t want to be known as the CEO who bankrupted her parent’s company after less than a year.

But that’s where her good pal Titus had come in. The man was well experienced in the ways of corporate and insolvency law, that’s why her parent’s has entrusted Titus as being Lexa’s sole advisor. He knew what his job was, and he was the best.

After a few legal meetings, and more advice from Titus, a new contract was written up for the Woods Corporation to assume Lightbourne Industries as one of it’s subsidiary branches for the next fifteen years, if the acquiring of the hospital and it’s partners went through.

That way, the Woods Corporation could properly sponsor Lightbourne Industries and it’s activities in the fields of medicine while still gaining more revenue. Lexa hated the legalities of it, and how money hungry it all sounded, but as a CEO, Lexa couldn’t afford to be as compassionate as she wanted to be.

She had to be ruthless, because she had obligations and responsibilities. She had to protect herself and her company, and her some hundred-thousand full-time employee’s for the next person who came along. As she read over the final contract late one night in Luna’s apartment, her mind wondered back to a less than familiar blonde.

Lexa knew Clarke had been studying in Washington DC, it had been revealed to her after one of her mother’s weekly conversations with Abby Griffin. While Lexa still didn’t know where Clarke studied, or what hospital she would soon work in, she wondered whether fate had brought them back together, and Clarke would be much closer to her than she ever expected in the months to come.

Washington DC was not a large place, not in comparison to the likes of New York, though the hospital was a big place, a monumental place, and if there was the possibility that she was destined to cross paths with Clarke again, she might not have to for that reason alone.

Polis Medical Centre was the largest hospital's in the state, nay, probably the country. It definitely gave the University of Pittsburgh Medial Centre a run for it’s money, amassing over eighty-thousand hospital staff in it's health enterprise, and that’s not even considering the numerous minor walk in clinics owned by the University of Polis enterprise.

That’s why Lexa was very mindful when entering her contract, it was a multi-billion dollar investment, which, if gone sideways, could potentially bankrupt her company, because if she lost a contract of this grand a scale, she would lose all contracts.

Nevertheless, even though Lexa was possessed by her curiosity, she knew that finding out the truth wouldn’t be the best of decisions, because she wasn’t doing this for Clarke, and she didn’t want any knowledge of Clarke to influence her decisions or motives. That was the way it had to be, for the good of everyone.

Lexa was, or wasn’t buying a hospital for someone she used to call a friend, she was doing it to advance her country, and the scope of medicine within, and Russell Lightbourne was a very smart man, possibly even as smart as Titus was within his own field, and with Lexa’s money, he had the means to do so.

Still, it didn’t do anything to ease Lexa’s anxiety when she met with Chief Jaha to scope out the hospital before the nature of Lexa’s presence became public. She recognised the name, Thelonious Jaha, it was a name that had stuck with Lexa just from the sheer absurdity of it. 

She remembers Abby Griffin mentioning his name on more than one occasion, and she knew that if Clarke wanted to work anywhere in particular in Washington, if she had found a job here that is, it would have been to work under her mother’s old boss.

As Lexa knew, the hospital was mammoth, and the likelihood of ever finding Clarke in such a place was little compared to none, especially if Clarke was going to go on that Doctor’s Without Borders trip Chief Jaha had mentioned in less than a month.

Though, Lexa couldn’t concern herself with matters pertaining to Clarke, no matter how much she did like to keep regular tabs on the people she once knew. Her sole focus had to be on her big debut, her first debut as acting CEO since Dante’s death.

Russell had pulled her aside before the announcement ceremony, asking if she was ready. Lexa had said that even if she wasn’t, she didn’t have a choice. She held herself together infront of the cameras, just as her parents taught her, focusing on her heart rate and focusing on her breathing, all the little nifty tricks her parents had taught her to control her nerves.

Lexa never really was fond of public speaking, not at Arkadia, and not at Mount Weather. She kept her breathing steady, looking out at the back wall, because she was taught that if you look at the back of the room, just above a person’s head, it will look like you’re staring them in the eye.

She presented the speech she had rehearsed so well, speaking slowly and with clarity, articulating her words even more than usual because sometimes the microphones can distort the audio through a camera feed.

She briefly let her mind wander back to thoughts about Clarke, if she was watching her right now, if she was in the crowd somewhere, if it made Clarke feel nervous like it made Lexa. And she wondered how after all these years, they could be so close, yet so far away.

* * *

**Nine Years Later**

There were many things she had come to love about Washington DC. It didn’t quite feel like home, even though it technically was ‘home.’ Though, ever since she was little, Lexa had associated the word ‘home’ with people rather than a place.

A place, a house, was just a series of bricks, timber and rock, something that could be torn down, burned and replaced. It could be bent, broken, sold and re-sold to a hundred different people, and Lexa still wouldn’t consider it a home. Rather, she considered the people within the place a home.

A place was only temporary, but a home was forever. And Lexa missed her home, and all the times she took having a home for granted. She felt that at first when her parent’s started becoming scarce, then absent altogether. She felt that next when she left Clarke and all Clarke’s friends behind in Arkadia.

She felt it next when Luna had left her for college, and Lexa was left with only Costia and God forbid, Josephine. She felt it again when she moved her belongings out of Luna’s apartment here in Washington, never considering that she was missing that human factor as much as Luna was.

Rather, not the human factor, but a _certain_ human factor. All this Clarke business had made Lexa soft, and she knew that there would be that one monumental thing which made her regret moving to Washington, because this wasn’t the time to be soft.

Alas, she was becoming softer by the day, with the more photos she marvelled at, and the more articles she read of the tremendous work Clarke had been doing overseas. She was proud, so incredibly proud, and she wanted nothing more than to tell Clarke how proud she was. It was at times like these, when she was so enraptured, so deep and possessed within her cyber stalking that she had forgotten she hadn’t heard from or seen Clarke in nearly a decade.

A _decade_.

It made Lexa shiver with regret and sorrow. Ten years was a long, _long_ time, I mean, look at everything Lexa had accomplished. Look at everything Clarke had accomplished, and look at everything everyone else had accomplished. They were no longer children, but fully fledged adults, in charge of their own lives and their own actions, in a way that they simply weren’t ten years ago.

Back then, Lexa could blame it on the hormones, on the immaturity, and the childish tendencies. It was a bullshit excuse and she knew it, but it worked. Now though, Lexa had nothing to blame with, nothing but herself. She certainly couldn’t blame the fact that she had donated a massive amount to the blog she’d found, created by one of the reporters who’d been in Africa with Clarke. No, that was all Lexa.

Maybe she’d had one too many glasses of wine, and the alcohol was doing her head in. It was either that, or the way that Lexa was just so transfixed on the image of Clarke she had been staring at for a full hour.

Her work with Russell Lightbourne had also been doing her head in, so it wasn’t uncharacteristic for Lexa to come home and have a glass of wine, or two, or three, or even the whole bottle. She even applauded her ability to drink an entire bottle and wake up the next day without so much as a stomach or head ache.

The headache came much later though, when Lexa was trying to wrap her head around the principles and scientifics of biomedical engineering. Biology Lexa could do, chemistry Lexa could do, even physics Lexa could do, but biomedical engineering… it gave her a brain aneurysm.

It was at times like these she wished she had saved Raven Reyes’ number to her phone, because Raven certainly new her way around engineering, having done a post graduate thesis in biomedical engineering just for fun, as if mechatronics, or whatever she had been studying wasn’t hard enough.

Even Monty would have been useful, having achieved his masters in electronic engineering, the last Lexa heard. Alas, Lexa had made her bed when she left Arkadia ten years ago, and this was about the only situation where Titus was at a loss for words, having looked even more confused than Lexa was.

Thankful, Simone Lightbourne had taken the time to explain the scientifics to Lexa in great detail, making sure that Lexa knew exactly what was happening with her money at all times, after all, Lexa was the reason that such technology was being created right before their very eyes, and they were almost ready to reveal their technology to the public, _almost_.

Chief Jaha had been in contact with Lexa regularly, and had informed her that his staff and his doctors deserved to know just who in fact had bought the hospital they worked in and who had commandeered all their assets.

It had been a long standing negotiation between Lexa and Russell of when the right time would be to announce themselves to the hospital. Chief Jaha had kept his word, and had kept silent about the new purchase of his hospital, but he had warned that his staff deserve to know just who they’re working for, and there may be some repercussions if their announcement was prolonged much further.

Lexa had visited the hospital since, and she had heard the very chatter Chief Jaha was concerned with. The staff were talking, the staff were threatening to go on strike if they didn’t find out which corporate money hungry “bastards,” had bought their hospital.

She swears she saw Clarke that day, hanging around a taller man and an awkward looking man who looked so out of place that Lexa nearly laughed. It would make sense, considering Lexa knew that Clarke had returned from overseas, she’d been back for a while now, a long while, but Lexa didn’t stay long enough to find out.

She proposed a solution to to the Chief, that being that the Woods Corporation would hold a charity fundraiser, or charity gala, however they wanted to notify their staff, and they would announce their ownership over the hospital. It would be the perfect setting, with all the doctors, nurses and allied health professionals, well some of them, in the one place where Lexa could mingle and introduce herself, so they didn’t all think the future of their hospital was in dangerous hands, or that Lexa was some “corporate, money hungry bastard,” as one nurse had put it so specifically.

That’s the last thing Lexa wanted, an uproar, because an uproar could displace and shatter her contract with Lightbourne Industries, and Lexa knew the catastrophe of the events which would proceed from that. And the last, _last_ thing Lexa needed was for the employee’s of the hospital to follow through with their threats to go on strike.

Luna had helped her shop for a new suit for the gala, now that it was set in stone with the Chief and the hospital staff. She opted for a simple, yet elegant and sophisticated suit and was rewarded when she came across a form fitting design, fitted with black fabric laced floral patterns and a complimentary silk tie.

They shopped for Luna next, looking for something a little less formal and more tarty because, “who know’s Lexa, I may find my soul mate at this thing.”

Lexa had laughed at her friend’s logic. “I don’t think you’ll find your soul mate if the first thing they notice about you is your boobs. Though a one night stand isn’t out of the cards.”

Lexa managed to convince Luna to change her approach, to look for something a little more gala appropriate, because, “the only reason you’re coming is so I’m not a fish out of water surrounded by lab coats. You’re my lab coat, and you know these people.”

It was true, Luna did know those people, and she had prepared Lexa very well on who to look out for, and who she most _definitely_ , most _absolutely_ had to talk with while she was there. She explained it like a hierarchy, and the only way to survive was to infiltrate the hierarchy, to get in cahoots with the top of that hierarchy.

It sounded very high-school, but Lexa was determined to make this work and make her parents proud, even with the constant reminder of gorgeous blonde’s with big blue eyes.

* * *

It was the night of the gala, and Lexa’s anxiety was at an all time high, not just because of Clarke, and whether or not the blonde would made her appearance, but the stakes were high, and this was Lexa’s make or break moment.

It was the risk, the risk that every CEO before her had experienced, the risk that would determine what kind of CEO she would be, and what kind of CEO she would be known and respected as being.

Who she wanted to be, and who the people saw her to be were two _very_ different things, and tonight was the night that Lexa could update society’s opinion of her, so the CEO she wanted to be, and the CEO they knew her to be were identical.

Her father had done very well in that department, before the scandal had ruined his career. He was a people person, knew how to communicate and interact with everyone he met. Lexa can’t recall ever having known someone who had thought ill of her father after they met him. He had a charm and a wit that Lexa had inherited somewhat, and she planned to use that tonight to infiltrate the hierarchy.

And Dante, even though he knew his time was limited, he still spent what little time he had left contributing to the good of society. They were definitely difficult to impossible standards to live up to, but Lexa could only try her best, thats all anyone could ask her for.

She was fiddling with her silk ties, her hands shaking as she tried and failed to style the material up against her collar. Luna had caught her struggling, and had laughed from a distance, and when Lexa realised why Luna was laughing, she started laughing too.

Apparently, tying a tie only work if you actually had a ’tie,’ otherwise it was just a knot. Lexa knew she would be nervous, but she didn’t think she would be _that_ nervous. Luna helped her, tying a very beautiful knot, as beautiful as a knot could be.

“You’ll do great, Lexie,” she said, “you always do.”

She booped Lexa’s nose, grinning from ear to ear as she skipped away to the bathroom to finish her makeup. Lexa fiddled with her speech next, folding the paper again and again as she paced along the carpet, reciting her words from memory.

She hadn’t realised how long she’d been pacing until Luna cleared her throat, already in her dress with her hair styled down, emphasising her naturally wild curls. The ride to the gala was quiet, Luna recognising that Lexa just needed some quiet to gather her nerves and gather her thoughts.

She didn’t try looking for Clarke, but she wasn’t _not_ looking for Clarke. Lexa wasn’t sure what she was doing if she was honest. She was meant to be paying attention to the people in front of her, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering around the room, looking for those strikingly familiar characteristics.

She’d given up about an hour and a half in, when it became apparent that Clarke wasn’t in attendance. She was a surgeon though, Lexa thought, she probably had much more pressing matters happening than to be attending a gala.

The time for her keynote was approaching, and Lexa felt oddly more settled with the information that Clarke wasn’t there. Lexa had waited off to the side, reciting her speech for a final time while Russell talked animatedly with his wife and a few officials on the hospital board.

They were waiting for her and she knew it. Like a bandaid, she told herself. Just get it over, and get it over fast.

She strolled on stage towards the podium, eyeing the large crowd with a small smile as they began hushing their chatter down to feint whispers, and the silence. She took a breath, then tapped the microphone, gently speaking, “hello? Is this working?”

“Thankyou all for coming tonight, you all look ravishing…” Lexa began, casting her eyes over the sea of bodies towards the back wall like her parents taught her.

Although this time, this was the one time Lexa wished she had never listened to her parents. She caught a glimpse, a quick glimpse of a mop of bright blonde hair, on the body of a woman weaving through the bodies of people at the back of the room like her life depended on it.

Lexa’s heart began beating in overdrive. She recited her speech as if she was on autopilot, her mind focused on the task at her while her heart screamed, _what if? What if? What if?_

Her speech was over before she knew it, and the first thing she could think of was that she needed a drink. She found and approached the first waiter she saw, spotting a single glass of champagne left on his tray.

She reached casually for the glass, only to have her hand knocked away by another hand, soft and feminine. Her eyes followed that hand, clasping the glass of champagne in an iron like grip, up the tensed muscles of her forearms, up past her shoulder, and straight into those big blue eyes which had been haunting Lexa all year.

“Clarke?” She said, not trusting her voice, not trust her body, not trusting that this was Clarke, really here in front of her after all these years.

She watched the recognition, and then the horror pass through through those ocean eyes, and she heard the faint, “fuck,” which left those lips she used to dream about kissing over a decade go. In a brave move, Clarke downed the glass of champagne, and Lexa could only watch the tilt of her neck, and bob of her throat as the liquid passed down through her body.

She stood there silently, unsure of what to do or what to say. The whole world seemed to come to a stand still, with everything around her blending into a background noise while Clarke, once again, became the focal point in her entire universe.

“Another drink?” She asked mindlessly, as the world came crashing down around her again in an instant, like a wave crashing against the shore.

Lexa could certainly do with another drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve also set up a little something here in this chapter that ties back in to Clarke’s. It’s early on in case anyone caught it, but it will be used as a big divider in upcoming chapters. And no, Josephine isn't that bad guy, even though her character is flawed, I want to work with her and her character development, so she's not going anywhere!
> 
> Clexa’s story continues next chapter.
> 
> P.S. small reference to Alycia’s latest movie - if you picked it, I love you a million.
> 
> Comments/constructive criticism appreciated :)


	9. 9. Turning Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt awkward, and it felt wrong, so incredibly awkward and wrong, and if it were anyone else, Lexa would have left already. She wished it wasn’t so awkward, she wished it wasn’t so wrong, she wished it wasn’t so difficult to sit down and have a conversation like old times, but things never usually turned out the way Lexa wished them to be, not when it came to Clarke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a quick chapter update a little earlier than intended to break away from those last few cliff hangers.
> 
> Enjoy :)

The longer she stood there staring, the more the world faded around them, the more time felt like it was freezing before her very eyes, and the more the walls closed in around her, locking this singular moment within an infinite loop for all eternity. At least, that’s how it had felt, until everything materialised back into reality within the blink of an eye.

“Another drink?” Lexa asked, and she immediately began scanning her eyes over the amass of people, looking for the closest waiter.

From the corner of her eye, she could tell Clarke wasn’t fairing much better, choosing to look everywhere except at the woman in front of her. But _God_ , did she look beautiful. Lexa had forgotten how beautiful Clarke had been when they were teenagers, but _this_ Clarke, _she_ was otherworldly.

Not a single blemish on the expanse of her milky skin, only that small beauty mark above her lip, the one Lexa used to dream about kissing. And Clarke had filled out, she had most certainly filled out. Lexa had trouble with where she should even focus. On Clarke’s legs, on Clarke’s hips, on Clarke’s-

“Lexie? My oh _my_ , this _is_ a surprise,” an all too familiar and unpleasant voice sing-song’d from her side.

“Josephine,” Lexa gritted out, sighing to herself.

The Devil’s spawn eyed Clarke next, a little too long and a little too carelessly for Lexa’s liking, though she didn’t say anything. She kept her comments to herself because Clarke wasn’t her business, Clarke hadn’t been for a very, _very_ long time.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on you’re big endeavour,” she congratulated, one of her hands drawing scorching circles around the fabric of Lexa’s back. Her eyes narrowed then, and her voice took on a more malicious and threatening tone. “And I just wanted to warn you not to make a mess of this hospital like your father did with his career,” Josephine threatened behind a wicked grin, and venomous eyes.

Lexa willed herself not to attack the girl, to maintain her composure in front of the most important members of the hospital. But something even greater told her not to lose her cool in front of Clarke, something told her not to fall prey to Josephine’s antics, to show Josephine _and_ Clarke, mostly Clarke, that she was a bigger and better person.

After a few steadying breaths, Lexa turned casually to face the woman and said, “so who’d you have to sleep with this time to get into the program I wonder?”

Lexa could see the very tendrils of self control slip away from Josephine’s grasp, and her victory felt electric. Clarke, who had been silently awkward the whole interaction had finally spoken up, though, she was addressing Josephine, and Lexa wondered whether she had become invisible, whether she should just walk away with her victory as it was, before it became her inevitable loss.

“You knew who was taking over this hospital the whole time?” Clarke seethed under her breath, eyeing Josephine with a venom.

Lexa stepped back at that point, watching Clarke curiously as the unreadable cogs turned in her mind. She used to be able to read Clarke with ease, she could even read Clarke with her eyes closed, but now, she was staring at a complete stranger.

“Of _course_ I knew,” Josephine bit out, “who do you think planted the seed to buy the hospital in the first place?”

Clarke’s nostrils flared, and her lips fell into that unmistakeable pout Lexa so often associated with as fury. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” Clarke asked aggressively under her breath, pulling Josephine to the side.

Josephine chuckled mirthlessly, pulling free from Clarke’s grasp. “It was rather entertaining to see you and Wells run around headless for the past few weeks, meanwhile I was taking in all the the surgeries,” She spoke victoriously.

“That’s not the all you take in though, is it, Josephine?” Lexa retorted, feeling a strong need to defend Clarke and draw Josephine’s attention away from the blonde fury.

Josephine smirked. “Come now, you used to like giving me all I could take once upon a time, Lexie” Josephine commented, in a sickeningly sweet voice, and Lexa felt the colour drain from her face.

Clarke looked at her properly then, mostly likely catching on to Josephine’s meaning, but her expression was still unreadable, the expanse of her blue eyes once endless and soul bearing, now shallow and surfaced. It made Lexa feel uneasy, heated beneath the weight of Clarke’s gaze, and she wondered, what on earth was whirling through that pretty mind.

Josephine left before either girl could say anything more, and Lexa never thought she’d want Josephine’s company again, _anybody’s_ company so bad in her life. It didn’t feel right, standing there with Clarke looking at her with that unsettling and unreadable expression, probably judging Lexa for her promiscuous endeavours. Still, it didn’t stop Lexa from trying to read Clarke, searching, grasping for something that was warm, tangible and familiar.

She came up empty of course, because this wasn’t the Clarke she knew. This was a stranger, and with Clarke having remained silent yet again, Lexa bit her tongue and prepared for the disappointment to kick in, her victory slowly and inevitably slipping away.

This was _not_ at all how she imagined a reunion with Clarke to be, but since when did Lexa ever really get what she wanted. She was a businesswoman, and she had to remain professional for the view of the public, no matter how much she felt like screaming on the inside.

On top of that, she was a Woods, and Woods’ didn’t show emotion, at least not with people they didn’t know. And this woman infront of her, this beautifully familiar woman, Lexa didn’t know her from a bucket of soap. This beautifully familiar woman was now so unfamiliar that it was unnerving.

She steeled her face, becoming stoic and every bit the revered and intimidating woman her mother had taught her to be. She could not crumble, she _would not_ crumble, not this time, not to the pain of what it felt like to love Clarke Griffin, and to lose Clarke Griffin.

“I’m sorry that my presence seems to have upset you, Clarke,” Lexa spoke well rehearsed, as though she was addressing a group of businessmen and not the woman she had been longing for for the past ten years. “I promise you the Woods Corporation’s purchase of this hospital and it’s assets was strictly a business transaction for all parties involved. However, I can see this has made you uncomfortable, so I’ll leave now.”

Lexa turned to leave, then muttered a soft, “enjoy the rest of your night, Clarke.”

She wasn’t expect Clarke to reach out for her, for Clarke’s hand to wrap around her slender wrist. She wasn’t expecting to feel the burn of Clarke’s hand against her skin, and the sudden urge to hiss at the unwelcomed contact.

Years ago, she would have done anything for Clarke to touch her, and she would have welcomed Clarke’s touches whole heartedly, as opposed to recoiling from the sheer acidity it felt like today.

“No, Lexa, thats not it,” Clarke began, not at all aware of the way her touch was effecting Lexa.

“It’s fine, Clarke,” Lexa assured solemnly, and she breathed a sigh of relief when Clarke released her wrist. Oh how much the tables had turned. “It’s been what? Almost ten years? Believe me, I never expected a warm welcome or a fancy reunion after everything that transpired. But, our circumstances have changed and we _both_ have changed with them. I don’t know the person you’ve become, and nor do you know the person I’ve become. Maybe it’s best that way.”

There was a pleading look in Clarke’s eye as Lexa turned to leave a second time, very much the same look Clarke had given her before, although now, it didn’t tear Lexa’s heart in two when she did. Now, she wasn’t leaving because she had to, she was leaving because she wanted to.

She weaved through the crowd, not once looking back at the beautiful woman who watched her disappear amongst the sea of bodies. She searched for Luna, already deciding on making their haste escape to Lexa’s apartment, a bottle or two of wine already awaiting them.

Lexa was undecided, but after the night so far, a bottle of wine or two was exactly what she needed.

* * *

She knew her habit was getting the best of her, and the worst of her too. She knew her liver hated her, and her body probably wasn’t as healthy as it had been before she became CEO. Before she became CEO, Lexa traded in drinks for sprints, always one to put her body first, maintaining a healthy diet and range of exercises her body thanked her for.

Her body definitely wasn’t thanking her any more. But the habit was just so hard to kick, especially when Lexa had more than her fair share of tempting wines and liqueurs to choose from, possibly the most abundant gift she received upon her coronation as CEO.

It was as though all those people knew something she didn’t, and Lexa was just catching on now. Her body, however, was a little bit more sluggish. Lexa would never class herself as an alcoholic per say, it’s just, a glass or two of wine did wonders in helping her destress and detox.

It also did wonders when it came time for Luna to probe her mind, as Lexa had almost no filter after a few glasses of wine. Luna had certainly used that to her advantage over the years, and Lexa was sure that if they weren’t friends, Luna had more than enough information to irreversibly damage Lexa’s reputation and career.

Lexa was just thankful she hadn’t mistakenly called Titus one night after one too many wines, _that_ would be something she would never be able to live down, Luna simply wouldn’t let her.

Lexa’s personal assistant on the other hand, well that was a slightly different story. Gabriel was one of the highest paid assistant’s in the country, and he knew whenever the words he overheard, intentional or not, were confidential or not.

He was Lexa’s personal one way valve, as she liked to call him. The man had a good sense of humour, and had become more of a friend to Lexa than just a paid employee, so much so that Lexa had met his fiancé, Miles Shaw, an officer with the U.S. navy after he returned home for a short few weeks before being deployed again.

Lexa never suspected her personal assistant was gay, as that level of personal detail had never arisen. Although she was glad Gabriel had told her, and had instilled that level of trust with her. If anything, it made Lexa like her assistant more than she already did.

For Lexa, there was nothing quite like sitting in front of her fireplace with a bottle of wine. That’s often where the found herself after a long day at the office. The first thing she had asked for when looking for an apartment in DC was an open fireplace, and if a prospective apartment didn’t have one, it was no longer a prospect.

It was the perfect place for Lexa to sit and think, soaking up the heat from the flames as they danced above the firewood. More often than not Lexa had found herself having fallen asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace, empty wine glass in hand.

Though, Lexa would take her savoir mattress over the rug in front of the fire place any day. She really did like that mattress.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” A faint voice muttered in the back ground.

“Lexa?”

“ _Lexa?_ ”

“ _Lexa!_ ” Luna called with irritation, kicking her foot into Lexa’s side, causing the brunette to almost drop her wine on her Persian rug.

Lexa shot her a murderous look, clutching her side, a snarl brewing at the back of her throat. “You _bitch_ , that hurt!”

Luna shrugged in indifference, sipping her wine casually. “Next time answer me when I call and I won’t have to kick you,” she defended.

Lexa scowled in her seat, rubbing the spot she just _knew_ where a mighty big bruise would form.

“You want to talk about it?” Luna tried again, nudging Lexa with her foot softly, little smile playing on her lips. “You’ve been suspiciously quiet since we got home.”

Lexa sighed, swirling the golden liquid around and around her cup. “What’s there to talk about? I saw her after all these years, it wasn’t the same, not even close. I left, and she probably wants nothing to do with me.”

“You beat yourself up too much, Lexie,” Luna criticised in a displeasing tone, eerily similar to the way Lexa’s mother would. “I thought we had moved on from that version of yourself.”

“I know, I know,” Lexa groaned, “it’s just… I had _so_ many expectations for how it would happen, if it _ever_ happened, and it was _such_ a disappointment.”

“The trick is not to have expectations,” Luna said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world, sipping her wine again. “So, it didn’t go the way you wanted it to. When has it ever gone the right way with that girl?”

“What are you saying?” Lexa questioned, “that I should pack up and leave because Clarke’s here? That there’s no point?” She asked sarcastically, waving her hand in dismissal.

Luna shook her head, scooching over so she could wrap her arm around Lexa’s shoulders. “Not at all,” She said softly. “I’m _saying_ , stop expecting. That girl defies expectations, it’s just who she is. So whatever happens, stop expecting, and you won’t be so disappointed.”

Lexa scowled, huffing in her seat as she let Luna gently rock her to the side and back. It was oddly soothing.

“Do you still love her?” Luna asked after a moment, and there was something there in her voice that Lexa couldn’t quite place, almost as if Luna was holding her breath.

The question caught Lexa off guard nonetheless, even though she knew Luna would ask. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back against the spine of the couch. Truthfully, Lexa didn’t know, not anymore. She’d dealt with her feelings of _losing_ Clarke, to a certain extent, but she had never properly dealt with her feelings of _loving_ Clarke.

She couldn’t deny either that those short few and precious moments she had been in Clarke’s company, she had felt relief, tremendous relief she had for some reason been waiting for. Just the idea of being back in Clarke’s life, and having Clarke _in_ her life challenged Lexa, and threatened to bring down all the walls and protective measures Lexa had learnt to build and spent building over the years.

Just being around Clarke again, and Lexa could already feel those walls begin to crumble. Everything about this situation told Lexa to run, to lock herself away and ignore the fact that she had ever seen Clarke again. She scolded herself for thinking that way, but her heart was begging her to give into the pull, even though Lexa knew she shouldn’t, even though she knew that first and foremost, she came first, and what she wanted came above everything else, within context of course.

Unfortunately for Lexa, her record of smart and logical decisions never really held up with Clarke. Luna was right, Clarke was an enigma, one that defied all expectations Lexa ever had, which still to this day surprised her.

It made her hopeful for the world of possibilities that awaited her, but when she tried to search for any form of emotion that resembled how she used to feel, all she felt was guilt, longing and an empty space where that love _used_ to be. She wasn’t so sure it was there at all any more.

“I loved… was _in_ love with the person she was. I miss that person, I miss her so much, but no. I don’t love her, because I don’t know her, not anymore,” Lexa settled, surprising even herself.

Luna nodded, seemingly proud as well. “Well, do you want to find out who she is? Do you want to know her?” She prodded, a giddy smile playing on her lips.

“I know what _you_ want,” Lexa commented off-handedly, and Luna swatted her.

“Never mind what I want. What does the great Lexa Woods want, hmm?” Luna pressed again, getting up and personal in Lexa’s space, eyeing her with those big brown eyes.

Lexa recoiled, a feigned look of disgust on her face at Luna’s intrusive presence, creeping closer each time Lexa reclined until she was well and truly on top of Lexa. Lexa relented, and pushed Luna back with a strangled laugh. “I don’t know. I… _maybe?_ ”

Luna quirked her brow. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“I don’t know!” Lexa was quick to say again, already distressed. “I don’t _not_ want to, but I’m not so sure I _do_ want to, I’m not sure if I even can anymore and I don’t want to force something between us, or try to make _something_ work just for old times sake if it’s clearly not meant to be. It hurt too much the first time to willingly go through it again.”

“So don’t force it, silly,” Luna responded simply, swatting Lexa over the head. “Let her come to you, and then _you_ can decide whether or not _you_ want it. The cards will be in _your_ hands, that way the only person you can blame if things go sideways is yourself.”

“Gee thanks,” Lexa retorted sarcastically with a scowl, downing the rest of her glass.

She reached for the bottle on the table, the second bottle of wine, already feeling the buzz from the first. She motioned the bottle to Luna in question. Luna shook her head, and Lexa began pouring up another single glass for herself.

“I think Clarke has been through the ringer enough as it is these past few years,” Luna reasoned, staring out into the expanse of Lexa’s dimly lit penthouse. “If she comes, you’ll know what she wants. Then, it’ll be up to you. Just don’t leave her waiting too long,” she said, sounding infinitely far away.

“Why do you say that?” Lexa asked curiously. 

A sad smile played on Luna’s lips, and she finished the rest of her cup in a single gulp. “Because women like Clarke go after what they want, they don’t hold back. And if she wants you, or if she wants to _try_ , I’m not saying give in an forgive her right away, but make damn sure you know what you want, because if you’re unsure, she’ll find someone else who _is_ sure, who _knows_ what they want and they will make her happy, and then you’ll spend every day regretting why you couldn’t make up your mind, and I’ll have to listen to you _every_ day.”

Her words were very direct, and Lexa wasn’t quite sure whether she had missed something, a _big_ something in Luna’s life, or whether Luna had been holding something back from her and was speaking from experience. Or, whether it was the wine talking, but Luna had only had one glass.

“Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me, Luna?” Lexa asked, softly, eyeing her friend with worry.

Luna chuckled uneasily, feeling the shift in the atmosphere, then abruptly changed the subject. “One emo Lexa phase in a lifetime is enough. You were possibly the most morbid and depressing person to be around during your emo phase.”

“If you call it my emo phase again, I will literally throw you off my balcony,” Lexa gave Luna a pointed look, who simply grinned in response, hiding her face behind one of Lexa’s pillows.

Lexa couldn’t sleep that night, she tossed and turned in her bed over and over again, she had never been so restless, not on her savoir mattress. The unsettling feeling of seeing Clarke again was playing was playing around in her mind on repeat. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Clarke’s sweet face, with her big blue eyes, her little button nose, and her pink kissable lips.

Except that familiar face morphed into the face of a stranger every single time. The alcohol buzzing through her system certainly didn’t help matters either. She curled into a ball, wondering what in the hell she had done to be put in this situation again.

Did she wrong someone in a previous life? Did she accidentally offend some dead spirit when she was a little girl, and this was her torment? Was there someone up there who just liked to watch her squirm for the fun of it, like sticking a magnifying glass over an ant hill?

She definitely couldn’t call Russell and back pedal or renegotiate on their deal, something where Lexa could hold up her end of the deal in a different state. Instead, she lay awake, rocking herself in the foetal position the entire night, wondering what in the hell kind of a storm had just been created, what in the hell kind of storm she had been thrust in to. _Again_.

* * *

She sat in the bustling staffroom, fiddling with the expensive looking black push pen she had acquired from the stalls surrounding the hospital this morning. She needed a new pen, black pens were like a a Godsend within the hospital walls, and disappeared out of thin air almost every day. The hospital wards were quite frankly the Bermuda Triangle of black pens.

She couldn’t even count on both hands and both feet how many times she had seen Atom or Wells ask someone in the nursing staff if they could borrow a pen, then proceeded to have that nurse follow them, intending to get their pen back once it’s purpose had been fulfilled.

She wouldn’t give them her pens, because she knew she’d never see them again, like so many times before. Then, in about a weeks time, they would ask her for another one. Or in Atom’s case, within twenty-four hours he’d be asking Clarke for another pen.

It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that the pen said _her_ name on it, ‘Woods Corp,’ in big bold letters. Clarke just needed a pen, a black pen… to add to the steady growing pile she had been accumulating in her locker for emergencies.

So she sat, in the bustling staffroom, fiddling with the expensive looking black push pen which had her name on it.

_Click, click, click, click._

“Will you stop that already? I’m trying to study,” Wells complained, staring at Clarke blankly.

Clarke shot him a guilty look, mumbling a quick, “sorry,” before she began rolling the pen between her palms.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have not put two and two together? Of course it had to of been _her_ who bought out the hospital, who else could it have been in a place like Washington DC? The President maybe? Though that would be a bold move, particularly for someone like the President.

It was practically broadcast all over the news about how Lexa Woods, the new CEO and youngest CEO of the Woods Corporation, moved to Washington DC after being elected as chief executer following Dante Wallace’s untimely death.

It was the talk of the town for a long while, everyone speculating why the CEO had moved to Washington DC of all places, particularly after being established in New York. It was talk that Clarke just couldn’t escape no matter how hard she tried, and now, there were other things she couldn’t escape too.

More respondent things, nagging her and nagging her, feelings mostly, feelings that she hadn’t really felt in years, feelings she had almost forgot were there. But now they were back, stronger than ever, because _she_ was back, because Lexa Woods was back, and she wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Her purchase of the hospital was evidence enough of that. Why though, Clarke couldn’t say, she hadn’t stayed behind at the gala to ask what she’d missed, to ask why the Woods Corporation had bought the hospital she worked in.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to find out, considering to Lexa, it was just a simple “business transaction,” as though the operation and successful management of a hospital wasn’t important for anything other than the profit available to accumulate.

That’s why she was the CEO and Clarke was the doctor, she thought.

She could see it now though, with the way the construction workers had been erecting the new sign for the hospital, the Wallace Memorial Hospital, still maintaining it’s credentials as a level one trauma centre. So not only had Lexa bought the hospital, she had renamed it too. That was bold, she thought.

She’d spent all morning convincing herself that the previous night was just a bad dream, but the confirmation from that new sign had just about done it. She was actually there, Lexa Woods had really there in front of her in the flesh. The girl, who Clarke was too blind to see until it was too late was really there after nearly ten years, and Clarke could barely string a sentence together in her presence.

Of course, Lexa never knew the depth of Clarke’s feeling, because Clarke could never tell her what she so desperately wanted to hear, what could have ultimately saved them. Even Clarke herself wasn’t aware of those feelings until it was too late. But Clarke didn’t want saving, Clarke wanted real, that’s all she ever wanted with Lexa. And when she left Lexain the corridor that day for the final time, it was the most real and excruciating thing Clarke had felt.

She had wondered many things over the years, but mostly, she wondered what their new dynamic would be like now, if they even had one or _would_ have one. It was something Clarke wanted, most definitely, because Lexa had meant too damn much to her all those years ago for her to just pretend as though this wasn’t a second chance staring blank at her in the face.

That’s all Clarke had ever wanted, a second chance. But things were different now, _they_ were so _so_ different, and Lexa was right. Clarke didn’t know her or the woman she’d become, only the girl she used to be, and Lexa wasn’t just a friend now, or _ex-friend_ , she was first and foremost the new owner of the newly named Wallace Memorial Centre, CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, and above everything, she was Clarke’s _boss_.

That last fact settled uneasy with her, because Lexa had the power to destroy Clarke’s career if she so desired. Not that Clarke ever thought Lexa would do such thing, but Clarke wouldn’t know what Lexa was capable of, or how far Lexa was willing to go. She didn’t know her anymore, Lexa was just like any other stranger Clarke passed on the street on her way to work each morning, everything unfamiliar and hidden away.

There was no warmth, no familiarity, no indication of the girl Clarke had once knew and loved, instead there was a stranger standing in her place, a stranger Clarke so desperately wanted to know, but didn’t know if this stranger would allow it, if this stranger wanted to use this second chance they’d been given.

“I need some air,” Clarke said, abruptly standing from her chair and startling Wells.

She’d made it all of a few feet outside of the hospital before her phone started vibrating in her pocket. Positive that it was Wells, she answered the call without even looking at the caller ID. “Not now, Wells. I just need some air.”

“You look pretty flustered,” a feminine voice commented all too quickly, a voice belonging to Raven Reyes. “So is that why you forgot me at the airport? Because you were getting some air?”

Realisation dawned on her, and Clarke palmed her head, a wave of guilt crashing over her. Raven was in town, they’d been speaking about it for months and Clarke was supposed to pick her up from the airport, today apparently. She had agreed to is months ago. “I’m so sorry, Raven. I’m so, so sorry, I completely forgot,” Clarke began waffling, apologising over and over to her friend.

“It looks like it… you alright Griff? You look like a tomato,” Raven asked, concern evident in her tone, and it made Clarke wonder whether or not Raven was hiding in the trees somewhere.

Clarke looked around cautiously, her ocean eyes scanning every inch of the surrounding environment, looking for a short Latina sporting that horribly familiar red jacket and a wide set grin. “Can you- can you see me?”

“Why do you think I’m calling you?” Raven responded incredulously. “I was going to show up unannounced and make you feel bad, but it looks like something has already beat me to it. Or a certain _someone_.”

The line abruptly stopped there, and Clarke checked to see if the call had in fact been disconnected. “Hello? Raven?” She asked into the speaker.

“Right behind you, dingus,” Raven chuckled.

Clarke spun in an instant, her jaw going slack when she noticed her best friend standing there in the flesh. “Raven!” She exclaimed, pulling the shorter girl off her feet.

She buried her head in Raven’s neck, her arms near constricting the smaller girl. Raven hugged her back, wrapping her arms around Clarke’s body equally as tight. “Are you okay, Clarkey? What’s going on?” Raven asked worried, pushing Clarke away so she could get a better look at the girl.

Raven pouted, bringing her thumb up to brush away a tear Clarke hadn’t even realised had formed. “It’s really that bad, huh?”

Clarke shrugged, shaking her head in despair. “I don’t know anymore. It’s good to see you though, _God_ , it’s so good to see you,” Clarke spoke earnestly, gripping both of Raven’s hands in her own.

Raven gave her a weak smile, then ushered Clarke away to a small and empty park bench, coaxing Clarke to just breathe and to talk when she was ready. After following Raven’s instructions, Clarke began reciting the events of the past few days, and she watched as Raven’s expression remained unchanging, almost as though she expected it, or was trying to process it like Clarke still was, Clarke couldn’t tell.

“What do I do?” Clarke asked, after the usually vocal Raven remained silent for questionably too long.

Raven heaved in a breath, studying Clarke carefully. “What do you want to do?”

“To see her, to talk to her, to get to know her,” Clarke admitted instantly.

Raven eyed her intently, a small frown pulling at her features. “Will that be enough, though? For your sake, I wouldn’t. If you know it won’t be enough, let her go. Maybe it is for the best.”

“How can you of _all_ people say that?” Clarke asked in shock, a look of appal on her features.

“You asked me,” Raven shot back in warning,.

Clarke looked at her friend in concern, reaching her arm out briefly to touch Raven’s shoulder. “Is everything okay with you?”

Raven ignored the question, simply choosing to eye the pedestrians walking alongside the hospital. “This hospital really is humongous,” she observed.

Clarke furrowed her brows. “Why did you really come here, Ray?” She asked gently. “Not that I don’t love that you’re here, but, what aren’t you telling me?”

“I needed some air,” Raven responded, matter of factly. “Look, I’m not the best person to ask right now. I’m here to listen, I will always listen, but I’m not the best person to consult when it comes to relationships. Just do what you think is right, what you want, and who knows, maybe Lexa is still head over heels in love with you.”

Clarke tried to ignore the harsh tone in Raven’s words. Whatever Raven wasn’t telling her was clearly the cause for her sour mood. She bid Raven a farewell, breaking off a spare key from her chain, telling Raven to watch the dogs as she entered the house. Then, she made raven promise that whatever it was, they were going to talk about it, when Raven was ready of course.

She spent the rest of her afternoon in surgery, assisting the attending in two total mastectomies. She visited Maddy afterwards, bringing and demolishing some take away before the kitchen staff came around with dinner and scolded Clarke for feeding the patients fast food.

The doctor didn’t seem to mind when Clarke did, but Clarke feared the kitchen staff more than she did the doctor. She finished up with Maddy and disposed of the evidence before hospital dinner came around, promising Maddy she would visit first thing in the morning.

It made her laugh when Maddy responded with, “whatever helps you sleep at night, Clarke.”

She was on her way out of the change rooms, heading for the elevators, bag in hand when she saw a tall brunette exit from Chief Jaha’s office. She recognised the woman immediately.

She eyed the exit to the stairwell to her left briefly. It was an escape, her only escape before Lexa looked up from her phone and noticed her.

Just do it, she thought, just talk to her, don’t be a coward.

She picked up her feet, walking slowly to the elevators, the same elevators Lexa was slowly walking towards, her eyes still glued to her phone. She stopped just behind Lexa, waiting to see if the woman was going up or down.

She held her breath waiting, while Lexa still tapped away on her phone. She decided to push the button herself, stepping forward to push the downwards arrow when Lexa reached out her hand as well, and when they touched, Clarke felt the shock jolt through her entire existence.

A good kind of shock.

Lexa looked back, her eyes widening when saw Clarke standing rigid behind her. Suddenly her palms began sweating, she felt her knees begin to buckle, and she felt the bass of her heart in the back of her parched throat. “Going down?” she asked, her voice hoarse and shaky.

Lexa only nodded, gesturing her arm out in silence as the elevator doors opened in front of them. Clarke stepped inside, the bright lights of the small space almost blinding. She pressed the ground floor level one button, while Lexa pressed the ground floor level two.

As Lexa stood in front of her, Clarke noticed the small things, like the way her breath had picked up, the small quiver in her body, and the way Lexa’s hands gripped the side of her thighs for leverage.

She took a breath, knowing the time before they reached the ground was precious if she was going to say what she needed to say. With hesitance, she spoke, “you don’t have to say anything. I don’t expect you to say anything. But there’s something I’d like to say, and once this elevator opens again, I’m going to leave you with what I’ve said.”

Lexa angled her head slightly, and Clarke took that as her cue to continue.

She took another steadying breath, closing her eyes briefly as she continued. “I was thinking about what you said, and you were right. I knew the person you were years ago, I loved that person. But I don’t know who you are now, and I would like to change that, I would really, _really_ like to change that, if _you_ want to as well. I would like to get to know this version of you, this person you are today. I can’t even begin to explain how much I’ve missed you, and how much I think _this_ , _us_ being here together again has to mean something. My shift tomorrow starts at midday. I’ll be in the cafe across the street from the hospital at around ten. Come if you want, and only if you want. I’ll understand if you don’t, I won’t hold it against you, and I won’t bother you anymore. We can just be strangers who pass each other on the street. But if you do, maybe we can get to know each other again, maybe we have a chance at something bigger and better than just us.”

The doors dinged opened, and Lexa turned her head slightly, not enough that Clarke could see her face, but enough that she could tell Lexa had heard, and Lexa had listened. “It’s good to see you again, truly, and it was nice meeting you again, Miss Woods.”

Clarke left the elevator with that, brushing past Lexa shoulder to shoulder, allowing Lexa’s still familiar scent to filter through her body. She thought she heard a small, “goodbye Clarke,” but couldn’t’t be sure, as her feet carried her all the way to her car, the sound of the elevator _dinging_ closed in the echo of the empty carpark.

* * *

The elevator, it felt small, it felt very _extremely_ small. Lexa was never one to feel claustrophobic, but in an enclosed space while Clarke stood behind her, where she could hear every breath, heart beat and shuffle of movement, she became acutely aware of how claustrophobic it really was.

Or perhaps that was her breathing, and her heart rate, she couldn’t tell.

She knew seeing Clarke was a possibility, even the smallest of possibilities, especially since she had been visiting the Chief of Surgery and Clarke was a surgical resident. Though, the fact still stood that the newly renamed Wallace Memorial Hospital was a gargantuan centre, and the likelihood of seeing Clarke during a visit that lasted no more than fifteen minutes was slim to none.

Perhaps this really was fate, or the universe, or some existential bullshit that Lexa tried not to listen to.

The one thing Lexa had stressed more than anything when remodelling her new office in Washington DC was the security, comfort and space of her office. She didn’t want to feel cramped, locked away inside a small room where she had to deal with the stench and odour of many of the men and reporters who visited her on a daily basis.

She’s sure they thought they smelt incredible, but there was nothing attractive to Lexa about a man who doused himself in body cologne, and practically dripped the stuff into her steam cleanedcarpet.

She wanted to be able to feel some semblance of a draft every now an then to clear out the air in the office. The hospitals were incitive in that sense, with the air filtration systems filtering through a fresh, positive current of air every few minutes into the operating theatres.

It worked a treat to help maintain air sterility in the theatres, if that was an actual thing, so the nurses explained to Lexa when she questioned why she felt a draft one day. She had questioned a lot of things while visiting Chief Jaha and the hospital staff when Clarke was overseas.

She didn’t want the hospital to think she was a money hungry CEO without any morals or soul, so she had tried to assimilate into the hospital life, shadowing doctors and nurses alike to better understand the way the staff worked within the walls, that way she could be a better owner outside of the walls.

Knowing what the staff were unhappy with in the first place helped Lexa to rectify the situations. She was immediate in her response to have a similar air filtration system installed into her office, and the nursing team had a bit of a giggle when she told them why.

Progress, she thought.

The space of her office had also allowed Lexa to keep sets of clothes and toiletries on stand by if she ever had to stay the night. The office couch was more than comfortable for an appropriate nights sleep if she ever needed one.

The office was in the least bit claustrophobic, if anything it was _too_ big, unlike the elevator ride she had shared with Clarke moments earlier. And she found herself, as Clarke was walking away from her, wanting nothing more than for Clarke to turn around, to ask Clarke how her day had been, if she had any interesting surgeries, or any funny stories to tell.

The nurses certainly had their fair share of funny stories to tell each time Lexa visited the nursing station, so she was sure the doctors had to of had their fair share. But Clarke didn’t need her to speak, Clarke needed her to listen, and Lexa was glad that she did.

So Luna’s little pep talk had been enlightening to Lexa, and maybe giving this whole friendship thing another go wasn’t such a bad idea.

Even though she couldn’t muster up or find any of those feelings within herself that she used to have for Clarke, it didn’t mean they were gone forever, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be found eventually. Perhaps she could build new feelings instead, and a new relationship with new experiences that wasn’t dictated or influenced by the one she had with Clarke years ago.

At least she knew now where Clarke stood, after her little elevator speech. The cards were definitely in Lexa’s hands now, though she never was a good card player, always lacking that poker face when she needed.

Nevertheless, she decided that taking Clarke up on her offer wouldn’t be the stupidest choice she had made all year. That, and well, she missed Clarke, so incredibly much, and if the woman Clarke was today was anything like the girl she used to be, maybe this friendship thing would be easier than she thought. After all, Lexa had fallen in love with that girl.

And as hard as it felt to be around Clarke in the now, while they were still wading through the waters and looking for a common and safe ground, it felt too good to just ignore, too good to just pass up, and she was positive that something may be able to come out of whatever was going to happen when she saw Clarke next.

It had only been a matter of hours since Clarke was introduced back into her life, and Lexa felt as though she was crumbling. She had reached her mental capacity and was absolutely exhausted. She hated how easily Clarke still affected her, how easy it was for Clarke to get underneath her skin and worm her way back into the deepest and darkest spaces of Lexa’s heart, reminding Lexa of the things she had become so good at forgetting.

It was incredibly easy, and they _still_ hadn’t even had a proper conversation yet.

She hated how easy it was for Clarke to demolish everything she had spent years building upon. It almost felt as though all those times Lexa had felt used, abandoned and rejected never even exist. Clarke still had the ability to incapacitate her, and she _hated_ it. She didn’t hate Clarke, she never did and never could, but she hated the affect Clarke had on her, and she wondered whether Clarke felt the same, whether this was all just one sided,like it had been so many years ago, and not a mutual evolution between the pair.

If it was, Lexa was prepared, somewhat, and she knew that whatever Clarke wanted to achieve was doomed from the beginning. But she decided it was worth it, even though she had risked it all and lost it all twice, she was older, more mature and far more wise than she had been. She was stronger, she was more resilient, and she had the support from even more people than she had before.

She had been vulnerable before, betrayed before, rejected before and used before, but the Lexa Woods she was today wasn’t the same Lexa Woods she was before. The woman she had become was a carefully designed product of self acquired natural selection. Or something like that.

Lexa’s mind really did go off on a tangent after a few glasses of wine, still adamant she was not an alcoholic. It was an aged Cabernet Sauvignon, what was she to do? Share with Luna only to have the lightweight regurgitate the fine liquid into the toilet? Not a chance.

Though, she was also adamant, no, she _knew_ that she wasn’t that little girl crying in her dorm room, fucking the next blonde who gave her heart eyes and attention. She was a powerful woman, a CEO at that, and she was a Woods. And the only way to overcome the affect Clarke had on her was to embrace it rather than fight it, to use it to empower herself, because nothing was ever simplistic around Clarke, and ignoring the problem only made it worse.

Lexa had to face it head on if she wanted to make it through.

She saw Clarke the next day, at ten in the morning just as Clarke said. She could see the blonde through the glass front of the coffee shop, reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she twiddled a pen between her fingers, _her_ pen, it looked like.

Lexa smiled to herself, just watching Clarke from a distance, taking her in while she thought no one was watching. But Lexa was, and she was appreciating all the little things she had missed about Clarke the closer she came, all the little things she never witnessed as Clarke grew from a girl into a clearly stunning woman.

She had admired Clarke before, the night of the gala, and briefly when she spoke at her father’s funeral, but this was different. Clarke saw her at the gala, Clarke knew she was watching, Clarke could present herself however which way she wanted. But here, right now as Lexa watched her bite down on the tip of the push pen which was unmistakably the same pen Lexa’s company had been selling outside of the hospital for charity, Clarke was completely vulnerable, and completely candid.

She could just imagine those familiar deep blue eyes underneath her frown, those eyes she used to find herself drowning in from time to time. She could never forget those eyes. The depth of everything that was just so Clarke Griffin used to live within those ocean hues.

She watched as Clarke continued to bite down on the tip of her pen, her teeth hiding behind those thin lips which tasted, _used_ to taste of strawberries and vanilla. She noticed the small frown widen on Clarke’s face, presumably directed towards a difficult crossword clue or sudoku puzzle.

Right now, while Clarke hadn’t noticed her, she looked every bit the way Lexa had remembered her, every bit the way Lexa had fallen in love with. But as she looked up, and recognised Lexa’s figure slowly approaching, that familiarity washed away as easily as footprints in the sand during a high tide.

She began scrambling, nervously scrambling, moving away her empty plate and cup off to the side so Lexa could sit at a somewhat neat and presentable table. She could feel the panic in the air, see the panic written across Clarke’s face, and she could feel the panic rise in her own chest in response.

It felt awkward, and it felt wrong, so incredibly awkward and wrong, and if it were anyone else, Lexa would have left already. She wished it wasn’t so awkward, she wished it wasn’t so wrong, she wished it wasn’t so difficult to sit down and have a conversation like old times, but things never usually turned out the way Lexa wished them to be, not when it came to Clarke. She wished that there was something warm, familiar and settling about being in front of Clarke again, ready to give this, whatever it was a go again, but there simply wasn't.

Though, the fact that Clarke was nervous had instilled a bit of confidence in Lexa, it had instilled a bit of reassurance that Clarke was suffering the same as her, and she was glad she wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

She pulled out the chair opposite Clarke, offering a closed lip smile as Clarke inspected her every move. “Got started without me?” Lexa half joked, offering a smile that came no where near close to reaching her eyes.

Clarke’s blue eyes fluttered beneath their lids, and she coughed slightly, slowly enough that Lexa could see the tremor in her hand. Then she felt guilt, guilt for making the situation even more awkward, because they weren’t friends, and they weren’t at that stage of a mended relationship yet.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ Clarke began stuttering, and on instinct, Lexa placed her hand on top of Clarke’s in a calming manner.

But calm was the last thing she felt beneath the rigidity of Clarke’s body. She could practically feel Clarke’s muscles vibrating beneath her hand when Clarke abruptly stopped talking.

“I was joking, sorry. Let’s start over,” Lexa offered, being the one to lead the conversation forward.

Clarke nodded, and quickly retracted her hand to beneath the table once Lexa had moved hers, an action which Lexa spent far too long analysing.

“Thankyou for meeting me here. I hope you don’t feel as though I was forcing you,” Clarke spoke nervously, after Lexa had adjusted her chair closer to the table, tucking some hair behind her ear.

The action was as endearing as it could be, and Lexa nodded back. “Not at all,” she waved off. “I _want_ to be here. I think this will be… _therapeutic_ for the both of us, whatever the outcome is,” she said gently, focusing on calming the thudding of her heart in her chest.

Clarke nodded again, seemingly unsure of herself and her own actions. “Uh, sure. Yeah, so… Can I get you a coffee or a muffin?” She asked, scrambling for her purse, and Lexa prayed to whatever God’s above heard her, that today would be kind, that today would be eventful, and today would turn out the way it should, for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know sooner rather than later if you want me to change, do, fix or add anything to the story. I can’t do much once the chapters are out there so please let me know if theres anything I can do better so your reading experience is better!
> 
> Comments/kudos appreciated :)


	10. White Flag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet, nay, it hadn’t even been twelve, but Clarke could already tell this was the beginning of the end of them, happening all over again. Clarke was just bracing herself for the hurt to set in, for the reality to set it.

She dropped her coins when getting up from the table, having insisted over and over to shout Lexa a coffee until the CEO eventually relented. She dropped her coins again in the line, while memorising Lexa’s order over and over so she didn’t forget.

Butter fingers, these were not the skills of a surgeon, not the skills of someone who’d been through medical school, who’d been through intern year and passed her intern’s exam. Definitely not. These were the skills of a girl, of a nervous girl tip toeing around what really mattered, creating distractions and small talk instead of addressing what really mattered.

That’s what Lexa had reduced her to, that’s what Lexa had always reduced her to, even if she didn’t know it. To a fumbling, bumbling, stuttering and coin dropping mess who probably just recited Lexa’s order incorrectly to the teenager behind the counter. Even he had looked at Clarke with an odd expression, probably wondering why she was so jittery and on nerve when he called, “next,” and had to physically ask Clarke to pay for the drink because Clarke’s mind was elsewhere and hadn’t handed the boy her coins when he asked the first time.

Though, Clarke couldn’t deny how good it felt to be in Lexa’s company again, how much of a relief it felt like, and how she had needed it over the years, even without realising it. As intimidating as Lexa and her title was now, and as nervous as Lexa made her, Clarke didn’t realise how much she missed it until it hit her all at once.

Nerves were a good thing, nerves helped her in crucial moments during a surgery, when responding to a MET call, when assisting the latest trauma patient who came screaming through the hospital emergency department on a gurney, paramedics at their side working full throttle to maintain a stable airway, a stable anything for the patient.

Nerves were good, but fear and intimidation? It was overwhelming, and it was incapacitating, enough that menial tasks like holding coins without dropping them and reciting a coffee order seemed arduous and challenging. Something about being around Lexa again left all of Clarke’s synapses short circuiting, and she couldn’t pin-point the malfunction even if she tried.

Her order wasn’t what it used to be, Clarke noted, not a simple dark chocolate hot chocolate with full cream milk and chocolate shavings on top, with two marshmallows, please. Instead, it was a tall, non-fat, no-foam, extra hot cinnamon macchiato, with an extra shot of espresso, and an extra pump of cinnamon syrup.

She had looked at Clarke uneasy, offered a final time to get her own order, but Clarke was already out of her seat, picking up the coins she had dropped on the floor. Besides, she could remember more intricate steps to a surgical procedure, so reciting Lexa’s order should be a piece of cake.

Evidently, not so much. Speaking of cake, she added a small slice of red velvet to Lexa’s order, remembering how much Lexa loved red velvet with a passion when they were kids.

Lexa didn’t say much when her drink arrived, she didn’t need to, her expression said it all after taking her first sip.

“Is it bad?” Clarke asked, biting her lip with a strangled smile.

Lexa pouted, shaking her head. “I mean… it’s _new_ ,” she settled with, and Clarke groaned, dropping her head in her hands.

“I’m sorry, I honestly thought I had that down pat,” she sighed, resting her head in her palms. “I got you red velvet though?” She said in a hopeful tone, gesturing to the small white plate that had arrived with the drink.

Lexa gulped, then stuttered. “Oh, um, I actually don’t eat red velvet anymore…” she trailed into silence.

Clarke’s jaw went slack, and she was sure she would melt into a puddle of embarrassment on the floor. But then Lexa’s expression broke, her blank expression turning into a small smirk, which turned into a toothy grin which was every bit _Lexa,_ every bit the way Clarke remembered her, and so Clarke couldn’t help but smile too, then chuckle away the embarrassment when Lexa started giggling, her movements causing a slight tremor in the table.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Lexa said in between chuckles, pulling the plate in front of her with a devouring gaze. “I couldn’t _not_ take the opportunity when it was so beautifully presented.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

She watched in silence as Lexa licked her lips, digging the fork into the velvety cake. She couldn’t help the way her breath caught in her throat when Lexa’s full lips wrapped around the edge of her fork, her eyes closing in tandem as a small sigh of bliss escaped her throat, something she probably didn’t even notice she’d done.

“Clarke?”

And then the haze dissipated.

“I said, how have you been?” Lexa asked, her fork mid way to her mouth, staring at Clarke intently, expectantly.

Clarke shook her head, smiling nervously, honing in her attention to the woman in front of her and not some fantasy. “Uh, good. I’ve been good,” she squeaked, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

Maybe it was because Lexa was eyeing at her with those green eyes she loved so much with the most intense look Clarke had even seen. Thankfully, Lexa hadn’t payed too much attention to Clarke’s odd behaviour. Lexa nodded, slowly, taking another bite of the red velvet cake.

Clarke chose to look downwards at the table this time, deciding it was the safer option than to stare at Lexa while she inadvertently made eating a red velvet cake something it shouldn’t be. She chugged back a glass over water to quench her parched throat.

“You know, you don’t have to call me Miss Woods,” Lexa said, patting down her mouth with a napkin. It took Clarke a moment to realise that Lexa had been referring to her signature departure the previous day when she left Lexa in the elevator. “It feels strange… it makes me feel old. Like I’m my mother or something.”

Clarke shivered at the thought, then chuckled when she saw a brief look of disgust cross Lexa’s face, her nose crinkling adorably. “You are my boss, though,” Clarke said, matter of factly. “How else am I meant to refer to you?”

Lexa hummed, swallowing a mouthful of whatever the hell coffee Clarke had actually ordered her, seemingly adjusted to the ‘new’ taste. “Technically, I am your boss’ boss’ boss’ boss’ boss’ boss,” Lexa recited thoughtfully.

Clarke pumped her brows. “Well look at you,” she responded more playfully than intended.

Lexa had noticed the tone too, and had eyed Clarke a little too long for Clarke to remain comfortable, her cheeks ripening slightly in colour. “Only around colleagues and in a professional setting of course,” Lexa was quick to correct, saving Clarke a bit of humiliation. “It’s unlikely that I would walk around the hospital asking for ‘Griffster,’” she finished, offering a playful smirk to ease the tension.

Clarke chuckled at the familiar nickname. “I don’t think I’ve heard anyone call me that in years, if I’m honest,” she admitted, tilting her coffee cup in her hands. “It’s not everyday I get to have a reunion with old friends,” Clarke sighed wistfully, and she noticed the small twitch in Lexa’s expressions at the word ‘friends.’

Lexa quickly recovered, then cocked her head curiously. “Well, you’re in luck, _Griffster_.”

Clarke smiled again, feeling a warmth she hadn’t felt in years flow through her chest, replacing the nervous and uneasy feeling that had been there before. She could certainly get used to Lexa calling her ‘Griffster’ again, or Lexa calling her anything really.

“CEO looks good on you…” Clarke said without thinking. “I mean… _you_ look good,” she corrected earnestly.

Lexa nodded. “Thankyou. You look good too,” she gestured across the table. “I guess there were quite a few things I missed.”

Clarke averted her gaze briefly from her coffee up to Lexa, then back to her cup. “You could say that,” she said, sadness etching in her tone.

“I never apologised,” Lexa offered, an empathetic smiling playing on her lips. “When I heard about Jake, I wish I could have been there for you.”

Clarke remained silent, pumping her brows with a flat smile as if to say, “me too.”

“So, Polis Medical Centre, huh?” Lexa asked with a hint of excitement, after a beat of silence, willing the conversation to go on and away from the morbid tone it had adopted.

“ _Now_ the Wallace Memorial Hospital. You should know the name’s of your acquisitions,” Clarke corrected with a cheeky grin.

Lexa held up her hands in faux surrender. “How’d that come about?” She asked curiously. “I always imagined I’d be seeing your art hanging in the Louvre or somewhere famous. I imagined you as being the new Van Gogh or Boticelli.”

Clarke sighed wistfully again, nodding along with Lexa’s words. “I kind of did myself. I tried to make the art career work, but believe it or not, medical school was more achievable. I sold some pieces on the side to help with college tuition, but the truth is, anyone can pick up a brush and paint. I mean, half of the abstract art out there could have been painted by three year olds for all we know. But not anyone can pick up a scalpel and cut. That takes a special kind of skill and responsibility.”

“Beautifully said,” Lexa praised, bowing her head.

She took another long sip of her drink, a small frown pulling at her face, and Clarke couldn’t help but frown in sympathy.

She met Lexa’s gaze again, noticing an uneasy tension, the same tension she had been feeling at the pit of her chest since Lexa sat down with her. “I guess we can’t keep at the small talk forever, huh?” Clarke said lightly, catching Lexa hum through another mouthful of, still, whatever the hell Clarke had ordered her.

Lexa placed her cup down stiffly, as though she were holding a fine piece of China. “I guess not,” she agreed, her tone becoming infinitely more serious.

“ _How come-_ “ both girls started in unison, then proceeded to both duck their heads. Lexa raised her brows, then gestured for Clarke to speak.

“How come you never wrote?” Clarke asked immediately, even expectantly.

Lexa pursed her lips, her jaw clenching and unclenching. “Excuse me?” She responded, her brows raised and her mouth tipping upwards in a snarl.

Clarke sat back, removing her elbows from the table. “How _come_ you never _wrote_?” She echoed, slowly, and with more determination.

Lexa sat back too, imitating Clarke’s posture, shaking her head with a look of disbelief, a small twitch visible in her eye. “I wrote to you every day for a _long_ time, Clarke.”

“Then how come I never heard from you?” Clarke rebutted.

Lexa shrugged. “I received your letter, and I sent you one the very next day, and every day after that for a _long_ time. But since you’ve gone for the big guns right away, I could ask _you_ why _you_ never wrote back.”

“Lexa-“ Clarke began, raising her hands, only to have Lexa continue.

“I could ask you why I sat in my dorm waiting for _something_ to tell me, to convince me that you hadn’t just given me hope in the darkest part of my life, only to destroy it and leave me hopeless, and for _what?_ ” She spat, crossing her arms.

“What do you mean you wrote to me, Lexa?” Clarke asked, her expression lost and confused. “I never received anything from you. I even tried calling you, but my number wouldn’t get through,” Clarke recited the memory, noticing an odd flash of guilt cross Lexa’s face. “Then I tried to write you, and I never received anything back. What was I supposed to do?” She questioned in desperation. “I couldn’t sit there drowning in the utter hopelessness that surrounded me either, so I moved on. When you didn’t write back, I moved on, just as you did, Lexa, just as you left me and moved on.”

Lexa sat there silently, her lips pressed into a firm line. “You sure did move on, didn’t you?” She said in a sarcastic tone, eyeing Clarke with pure scrutiny and judgement.

Clarke gulped the lump in her throat, feeling her heart rate begin to increase again. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she questioned in a clipped tone.

Lexa gave a brittle laugh, uncrossing her arms from her chest, resting them almost calculatingly on the arm rests, her fingers gently tapping away. “It honestly sounds like maybe you planned this from the beginning.”

“What?” Clarke questioned again, raising her voice slightly, gripping the edge of the table for support.

Lexa scoffed. “You were mad because I left you, and you’re clearly still mad and you’ve _clearly_ held it against me ever since. So you reached out, and pulled away when I needed you the most, when I had let myself become vulnerable with you again. You’re an expert at that Clarke, you’ve had plenty of practice on me,” Lexa spoke harshly, her words ripping through Clarke like a dagger.

Lexa continued, “You know, I was so scared that you hated me, that if I reached out, you wouldn’t reach back. I guess you proved me right. I guess you proved how selfish you are, you were always selfish. Clarke Griffin always came first above everyone else, regardless of the consequences,” Lexa finished, a blaze burning bright in her fiery green eyes.

Clarke nodded, gritting her teeth together, her eyes just beginning to brim with an unshed mist. She bit the tears back with all her will, closing her eyes as tight as she could muster.“Yeah, okay. I can’t do this, I _won’t_ do this. Not again, not now or not ever. Yes, I was mad. I was so incredibly mad at you for leaving me, but dammit I missed you, Lexa. I was hurting, you hurt me more than I had ever been hurt, so I reached out, because I needed you too, just as much as you needed me. Maybe your letters got lost in translation, maybe they never made it for whatever reason, but I won’t sit here and let you accuse me like I’m the villain, like I’m the bad guy, _again_. I am not the bad guy, Lexa. I _know_ I treated you unfairly, I _know_ I wasn’t the friend you deserved, I _know_ I made some piss poor decisions and the fact that I was kid doesn’t excuse that, and I have regretted my decisions every single day. I can’t change the past, all I can do is acknowledge my mistakes. But I needed you too, and all I could think about was reaching out to you, talking to you, finding you. And I am so incredibly sorry that in my doing so, it has caused you more pain. I am so incredibly sorry that I even cared. I might have just wasted my time.”

Clarke abruptly stood, throwing a crumpled bill on the table. “I think I’ve said all I need to say. I’m done chasing someone who continues to think so little of me, who continues to accuse me and who continues to believe the worst in me. I am so done.”

She began putting on her jacket, fixing the collar habitually so it sat neat around her neck while Lexa observed the scene in shock, trying not to notice the few scowls from surrounding people when Clarke pushed her chair out too loudly. “If you want a civilised conversation, you know where to find me,” Clarke began, flicking her hair from out of her collar. “But you only get one Lexa, I can’t keep doing this over and over again. I never needed saving or absolution from you, I never _wanted_ saving or absolution from you, not even now. I just wanted my friend back, I just wanted _you_ back. So figure it out. Figure out what in the hell you want from this and from me, and when you do, tell me. But I won’t stand here and continue to bet on someone who can’t, or who _won’t_ bet on me. Get a hold of yourself. Respectfully, Miss Woods.”

Clarke left with a flourish, leaving more than an hefty tip on the table, most likely not even aware that she had pulled a fifty dollar note from her pocket to pay for a simple fifteen dollar meal. Lexa pulled a note from her own wallet, a less crinkled and perfectly ironed fifty dollar note, placing it gently on the table, swapping it for Clarke’s.

She left shortly after gathering herself and her thoughts, deciding that maybe a pyjama day was best, that maybe taking the day to really figure out what she wanted was indeed what was best, rather than to rush into tracking down Clarke again. Besides, she was the CEO, and the CEO could vacation whenever they wanted.

When she finally did leave the cafe, she wondered whether she had not prayed hard enough when she arrived, whether something good really could come between them after everything they had been through, whether it was worth fighting for something good again.

* * *

 

Maybe she was right for being nervous and afraid, maybe she was right for thinking that this was a long shot and a complete waste of time. She had told herself it wasn’t, tried convincing herself it wasn’t while she was eating an omelette and French toast for breakfast at the cafe, but those thoughts just wouldn’t leave her alone. Maybe her subconscious was smarter than she was too, and maybe so was Raven.

Raven had texted her, shortly before Lexa had arrived, sending Clarke an attachment image of herself snuggled up with Chewie and Eleven, telling Clarke all three of them sent her their well wishes. The fact that Raven had been so openly against her reconnecting with Lexa still irked Clarke to no end, even if she turned out to be right, considering that Raven had been, perhaps, Lexa’s biggest advocate back in the day.

It made Clarke wonder what had been happening over in New York the last couple of months for Raven to become so cold and disinterested when it came to relationships. Were Raven and Anya on the rocks after all these years? She had tried prying into Raven’s love life the previous night, but Raven was only interested in the unopened bottle of Jack she found in Clarke’s kitchen cabinet.

_“I’m not the best person to consult when it comes to relationships.”_

Clarke chuckled, remembering Raven’s words from yesterday. How ironic, she thought. It seemed neither of them were good when it came to relationships. Clarke had thought Niylah was it, that Niylah was the one for her. It certainly seemed that way, until Clarke had realised that she could love someone unconditionally, but it didn’t mean she was _in love_ with them.

She had thought about it a few times with Finn, if their friends with benefits might ever evolve into something more. He was handsome, in that shaggy and charming kind of way, and his eyes, those eyes could cause Clarke could melt into a puddle if she stared too long. They were warm and brown, so brown, and twinkling with that smile that never seemed to leave his face.

He was family oriented too, even though he didn’t want to settle down anytime soon, he wasn’t afraid to share his aspirations for having a family with as many children as his wife could have. “Ten is the minimum,” he used to say, “the absolute minimum.”

Clarke always wondered how Finn would go finding a woman who would happily bare him his ten children. As it turned out, he was going much better than Clarke, and was apparently expecting his first of ten children, a baby girl he was certain his girlfriend would agree to naming ‘Aspen.’

He had certainly come far from the man who didn’t want to settle down anytime soon, perhaps he just hadn’t met the right woman, until he finally did. Perhaps Clarke hadn’t met the right person yet either, perhaps she never would. If she was honest, Clarke had loved and lost a lot of people in her life, but never had she been in love before.

She had loved Lexa, she had loved Lexa more than anyone in her life, and it hurt like hell when Lexa had left, it left her broken, battered and defenceless, but she wasn’t _in love_ with Lexa. Maybe she could be one day, or maybe she might never be. But that was a question for future Clarke to ponder.

To say she was more than surprised when Lexa appeared at the cafe earlier during the day would be an understatement. Though, with how terrible and uneventful the little reunion was, perhaps Lexa only came because felt as though she owed it Clarke for all of their lost time. Perhaps she felt as though she owed it to their younger selves, Clarke definitely thought that.

Or maybe she just wanted to hear what Clarke had to say, to try and gain a little bit of closure before she let Clarke down nicely, before they returned to being strangers again, to being employee and boss’ boss’ boss’ boss’ boss’ boss.

She liked to think that maybe it was because Lexa had moved on from those feelings she used to have, the ones where she couldn’t stand to be around Clarke without hurting, and was willing to give Clarke a second chance. It was a chance that Clarke promised herself she wouldn’t squander if presented, but she was not the squanderer.

It had been surreal to be in Lexa’s company again, surreal, exciting, and like seeing a ghost all in one. Clarke almost hadn’t recognised her when she first walked into the cafe, exuding nothing but stoicism and confidence, a far cry different than the quiet and shy girl she had been back in high school.

Sometimes Clarke had to remind herself they weren’t in high school anymore, that bad things had happened, and that the past ten years weren’t just some bad dream or simulation. Lexa had become now what Clarke had always dreamed of becoming, a powerful woman, an incredibly powerful woman, the most powerful in Washington DC, according to the tabloids.

But the momentum of their reunion had been short lived.

It pulled at her heart strings that she hadn’t been there to see the changes Lexa had been through over the years, that for some reason, their letters had been lost in translation somewhere along the line and Lexa had apparently thought of her as some evil and hideous monster who was out to hurt her.

That was the last thing Clarke had ever wanted, to hurt Lexa and to cause her pain, and it hurt her to no end knowing that she had over and over again without even realising it, without being given the opportunity to do something about it. Even more so, it hurt that Lexa thought so little of her.

As Lexa had pointed out, there were thing that they had missed, so many things they had each missed, like the way Clarke had put in a little more effort into her appearance just in case Lexa had decided to show up. Even her co-workers had pointed out her more vibrant and “popping” appearance when she arrived at the hospital after leaving Lexa in the cafe.

Clarke had checked and re-checked her appearance in the mirror several times that morning, wondering if she had gone overboard. But this was Lexa she was dressing up for, and she had made the decision that Lexa was worth it, she just wanted Lexa to make it for herself.

It didn’t stop her from wanting to make an impression on Lexa though. She wanted to look good for Lexa, in the same way she seemingly had that night of the charity gala when Lexa wasn’t sure where in the hell she should look upon Clarke’s body.

For Clarke, the day could not come fast enough, and she had found herself unable to sleep the previous night, a constant rush of adrenaline and anticipation just coursing through her veins like an endless rollercoaster. At least her outside appearance was enough to mask how she really felt on the inside when she made it work early that day.

If anything eventful did come from their little failed attempt at a reunion, it was that people’s feelings really can change a lot over years, or _not_ change, and people aren’t always who you hope them to be, no matter how much faith you put in them, no matter how much you’re willing to bet on them.

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet, nay, it hadn’t even been twelve, but Clarke could already tell this was the beginning of the end of them, happening all over again. Clarke was just bracing herself for the hurt to set in, for the reality to set it.

* * *

It took her a while to pull herself together after Clarke left, to get a hold of herself as Clarke had pretty much demanded her to, long enough that a friendly waitress came over and asked Lexa if she wanted to order from their lunch menu.

She decided that a rainy day was what she needed, considering that half the day had already passed. With Clarke’s fifty dollar bill safely in her purse and her own in replacement, Lexa left the cafe, making a quick call to her assistant, Gabriel, to let the man know she had other duties to take care of.

Besides, Titus was more than capable of running the company for a day without ruining anything. She walked some twenty blocks through Washington DC before arriving at her apartment building, allowing her some much needed time to process the events of the morning. She knew that a reunion with Clarke wasn’t going to be easy, she knew that before she had even made her decision to meet Clarke.

If she was honest, she wasn’t quite sure why she even agreed, whether it was for the wrong reasons or the right, she didn’t know. Granted, she didn’t expect her brunch to go so terribly either, knowing that she was the main instigator of said terribleness. Clarke had given her yet another opportunity on a silver platter to fix things, but this time, Lexa wasn’t so sure she even deserved another chance after her outburst at brunch.

Clarke had looked so defeated and so hurt by her words, she hid it well, but Lexa could still see the effect it had on Clarke, and she wished to God she hadn’t been so harsh on Clarke. She didn’t mean to blow her hood off at Clarke, but for ten whole years she had been denied the opportunity of telling Clarke what she truly thought and how she truly felt.

Clearly there were a few feelings that had gone unchecked for the last ten years, why would they need to be checked when Clarke was never around. The morning’s events only added to the list of bad decisions and mistakes between the pair. It was a steadily growing list and Lexa thought it would never stop.

She wanted it to, so badly, she wanted so many things for them both, but she couldn’t decide whether or not she deserved those opportunities anymore. She couldn’t decide if it was the best thing for either of them now, given how unwell it had already gone.

She spent the rest of her afternoon curled up alone infront of her fire place, ignoring the budding feeling in her chest telling her to go see Clarke at the hospital. Luna was her next option, but Luna was working. Besides, Lexa wouldn’t call her even if she wasn’t. Luna would scold her, even hit her for being so stupid, and she didn’t need someone reminding her of what she already knew, of what she had lost yet again.

It was a lonely afternoon, one of the her loneliest since moving to Washington. Maybe Lexa should invest in a pet, a dog would be too much, and she wouldn’t be around enough to provide all the love and cuddles that every dog deserves.

A cat would be good. Cats were inside animals, and Lexa’s apartment was certainly spacious enough for an adventurous cat. Cats were independent too, nifty little creatures that don’t rely on humans the way dogs do. Maybe a cat was what Lexa needed to keep her company, one that actually liked her, not like that wild one Luna tried to tame years ago when she took Lexa up to her family cabin to sort through her shit.

That cat was an absolute nightmare, and Lexa had the scars to prove it. But a friendly cat might be nice to keep her company, she’s sure the cat would love the grand fireplace when the months got colder, and would find Lexa’s lavished furniture appealing.

She must have fallen asleep infront of the flames, because when she groggily awoke, her phone battery was dwindling from a tsunami of messages from Luna, and there was an incessant pounding on her front door accompanied by Luna’s agitated voice in the background, calling for Lexa to let her in.

Lexa shuffled over to the door, her reading glasses sitting on the edge of her nose and her duck’s feather quilt wrapped around her shoulders. When she opened it, Luna’s fist stopped mid motion, held up in the air as she glared at Lexa.

“Thanks,” she said flatly, pushing past Lexa’s groggy frame. “Couldn’t have let me in, say, forty minutes ago?” She asked pointedly, her hands resting on her hips.

Lexa scoffed. “You have _not_ been standing out there for forty minutes.”

Luna’s posture stiffened. “Well, it _felt_ like forty minutes,” she backtracked. “What’s the difference? What have you been doing? I’ve certainly been calling you for over forty minutes,” Luna pressed, waving her phone in the air.

Lexa gave her a sheepish look, kicking the quilt out from underneath her feet while simultaneously adjusting her glasses.

“Oh no…” Luna trailed. “I know that look. How did it go?” She asked, adopting a more concerned tone.

Lexa shook her head, kicking her quilt again. Then she looked at Luna and shrugged with a sad smile. “It didn’t,” she said simply.

Luna sighed in sympathy, dropping her bag and coat on Lexa’s polished wooden floor. “What happened?” She asked, opening her arms.

Lexa dismissed Luna’s invitation and chose to walk past the woman, plumping herself in front of the fireplace again, close enough that she could feel burn from the flames, close enough that she could feel the sting from the heat in her eyes and smell the tips of her hair singeing.

“I guess I still had some unchecked feelings,” she said, watching the dancing flames in a trance, “and seeing Clarke again, being around her and talking to her again made me realise they were still there. I kind of blew up at her, and she probably never wants to see me again.”

“You didn’t…” Luna said, watching Lexa’s seated frame closely.

“I did,” Lexa responded impassively, bringing her knees up to her chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Luna scolded, just as Lexa had predicted.

Lexa turned around in a fury. “That’s not exactly the kind of motivation I need right now, thanks.”

Luna apologised almost immediately, sitting a few feet behind Lexa, giving the brunette a wide berth. “I’m sorry, Lex, it’s just… I mean, you’re still alive aren’t you? It can’t have gone all that bad?” Luna tried optimistically.“Did she _say_ she never wanted to see you again?”

“Not exactly,” Lexa corrected. “In short, she told me that she can’t do this, to figure out what I want, to pull myself together and that I know where to find her,” Lexa continued, turning to her side to face Luna.

Luna nodding expressionlessly, before her face morphed into disbelief. “Okay, for real this time, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?”

“Excuse me?” Lexa questioned pointedly, facing Luna front on.

Luna raised her brows in a scolding manner. “You’re kidding? You’re _actually_ kidding, right?” What did I tell you? The same damn thing!” She shrieked, throwing her arms up in the air before letting out a defeated sigh.

Lexa watched mutely as Luna began threading her hand through her long curls. “Man this girl really has you up in the sticks, and she probably doesn’t even know it either,” Luna mumbled underneath her breath.

“I can still hear you,” Lexa deadpanned, before crawling over towards Luna’s slumped figure with a sigh. “I thought I knew what I wanted,” Lexa defended, settling herself against Luna’s body. “But with Clarke… I just never know, it’s impossible to know. I thought that I had figured it out, but then these old feelings came up and I just… lost it.”

Luna started threading her fingers through Lexa’s hair, curling her little wisps as she went. “Lex, this is your life, and I can’t tell you how to live it, but I think you know what I’m going to say next.”

Lexa groaned in response, during her head into Luna’s shoulder.

“You have a chance, a chance to mend a relationship, to rebuild a relationship that years ago used to define you. You are _not_ the same person, she is _not_ the same person, this relationship, if you let it happen, won’t define you anymore and _that_ is a good thing,” Luna said gently. “You have a chance to start fresh, so before you go rushing into anything, take a few days to really figure out what it is you want. When you know, you know, and make sure you tell her, then Clarke can do with that what she pleases, the same opportunity she has handed to you yet again.”

Lexa hummed softly. “I’m just so scared that I’ll lose her again, that I’ll say the wrong thing and this time she won’t want me to come back.”

“So don’t say the wrong thing,” Luna said gently. “Just be yourself. She doesn’t know this version of you, so you can’t go wrong. Just be yourself, and I’m sure that Clarke will be more the willing to get to know the person that I know you are, the person you need to trust her in knowing.”

Luna had left her that night, shortly after Lexa had divulged her plan of getting a cat to keep her and her apartment company. Luna had looked at her like she was crazy at that point, repeating what she had said earlier in the night about how Clarke had her up in the sticks.

She returned to work the next day like normal, greeting Gabriel as he updated Lexa on everything that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours. She spent the next few hours in a conference call with Lightbourne Industries, listening to their new proposal about funding an entire new research facility connected to the Wallace Memorial Centre, where specialists wouldn’t have to travel so far to work on their projects.

It was a fantastic proposal, and Lexa tried her best to listen, but her mind was elsewhere, like how long would be an appropriate time frame to wait before she saw Clarke again. Meeting Clarke prematurely and blowing up at her was the very last thing on Lexa’s agenda, but she also didn’t want to leave it for too long, for Clarke to begin to think Lexa was disinterested or had just forgotten abut her.

She spent the next few days running on autopilot. Arriving at her office at seven on the dot, and not leaving until well after the sun had gone down. Even Cheif Jaha had a few propositions of his own for the future of his surgical program, like delivering more pro-bono surgeries to the emergent cases and families who couldn’t afford such expensive healthcare.

He’d even sent in a lengthy email about his idea to merge the surgical program with another top tier program in the country. Frankly, the Chief could do whatever he liked, it was his surgical program, but being owner of the hospital, Lexa still had to review all expenditures and board decisions before making her own, which was pointless if you asked her, because Lexa’s decision trumped all decisions.

It was a Thursday afternoon when Lexa received a short text from Luna, a simple, ‘Your girl is assisting as the lead first year resident on coronary bypass surgery this afternoon,’ was all it said. Luna’s insinuation, however, was clear as day.

It was clearly an invitation, and clearly a milestone for Clarke in her surgical career as usually those types of surgeries were reserved for the third and fourth year resident’s to take point. But the Wallace Memorial Centre was the biggest teaching hospital in the country.

‘What time?’ Lexa typed back, anticipating a reply from Luna the second her message was read.

‘An hour,’ Luna texted back just as quickly, and Lexa had already begun clearing out her schedule for the rest of the day.

“Hold all my calls and push all my appointments, thanks, Gabriel,” Lexa had called, as she whizzed past her assistant’s desk.

She’d made it to the hospital and located the surgical room just in time before the start of the procedure. The viewing gallery was closed off for privacy reasons, as the procedure was being performed on one of the elderly staff members who worked in the hospital. But being the owner of the hospital certainly had it’s perks.

Lexa sat quietly, watching the entire four hour length of the procedure in great detail, watching the way Clarke’s hands moved inside the patient, suturing and clamping as delicately as her hand used to glide upon a canvas. The body was her canvas now, the needle her brush, the thread her paint, and the suture her art.

It certainly was a beautiful art, and Lexa knew how incredibly wrong she had been days ago. Clarke wasn’t selfish, Clarke was never selfish. Clarke was _selfless_ , putting the lives of others above her own, sacrificing her own wants and her own needs so she could end up in a position where she could help the people that needed to be helped, to fix the people that needed to be fixed. Clarke was anything but selfish, and Lexa wished she hadn’t been so stupid and so judgemental, letting her unchecked emotions get the better of her.

Clarke had noticed her in the gallery, shortly after the procedure started, and spared a number of glances up at the gallery throughout, probably checking to see if Lexa had left most likely. But Lexa had remained from start to finish, and when she watched Clarke thread that final stitch to close the patient’s sternum, she watched the way Clarke’s shoulder sagged in relief.

Lexa certainly couldn’t do that, what Clarke had been doing for the past four hours down there. Lexa wouldn’t have the stamina, the stomach, or the skill for it. Frankly, she wondered whether she even had the heart for it, no pun intended. It was definitely a superhero’s work, and Clarke was definitely a superhero in Lexa’s eyes.

She waited outside of the theatre, outside of the the scrubbing bay while Clarke scrubbed herself clean, her cerulean blue scrubs like an exact replica of the colour of her eyes. She seemed to take her time, waiting untilallthe surgical attendings left, along with the anaesthetist and nursing team, seeming to prolong the moment for as long as she could.

She was about the only surgeon left in the theatre, apart from a few nurses prepping for the next case. Still, Lexa waited, patiently, until Clarke was ready to come out, and when she finally did, the relief and awe Lexa felt was utterly tremendous.

She felt beside herself, standing in front of this superhero, staring at this superhero who seemed, otherwise, ready for anything and everything more at world had to throw at her beneath her exhausted exterior.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again, Miss Woods,” Clarke said curtly, bowing her head in respect.

The action left a bitter taste in Lexa’s mouth. If anything, after what she just witnessed, she should be bowing before Clarke, kissing the floors before Clarke, but that would be unsanitary.

“That was… That was…” Lexa stumbled, at a loss for words.

Clarke seemed to catch on to what Lexa was trying to say though, and she blushed a light red, a small smile creeping on her face. “Thankyou. I was surprised you sat through the whole thing.”

“You do that every day?” Lexa blurted.

Clarke chuckled. “No, not everyday. Some days I’m on rounds, other days I’m with the pain management team, or on the wards assisting the RMO with post surgical patients. The best days are when I’m in emergency or the paediatric unit though, those are my favourite.”

“Any particular reason?” Lexa asked, leaning casually against the wall.

Watching Lexa’s posture relax, Clarke seemed to relax a bit more herself, shrugging her shoulders back and leaning against the wall opposite Lexa. “Emergency is where it all happens. Surgery is the endgame, we already know what’s happened and what’s going to happen, well, most of the time. But in emergency, it’s always different, always new, and always exciting. We never know what’s happened or what’s going to happen, that’s the beauty of it, but that’s also the scary part.”

She felt drawn in the more Clarke spoke, the more Clarke relaxed and felt comfortable in her ability to just be open and expressive in front of Lexa. And Lexa knew, without a doubt, she wanted to know this woman before her, she wanted to know this version of Clarke, whatever and however long it took.

Though she noticed Clarke had checked her watch, for the third time since she left the scrubbing bay, and Lexa wondered whether she was keeping Clarke from being a superhero elsewhere.

“Am I keeping you from work?” Lexa asked, elaborating when Clarke looked up in confusion. “It’s just, you’ve checked your watch a few times and I don’t want to be keeping you from something.”

Then Clarke gave her a look, an odd look, almost as if she was deciding whether she should tell Lexa the truth or not. “Actually, I have a date right about now,” Clarke confessed, and Lexa couldn’t deny the way her heart plummeted in her chest.

“A-a date?” She stuttered, clearing her throat.

But Clarke kept on smiling, a giddy kind of smile, a smile that told Lexa there was nothing to worry about, or to be jealous about. But there was also a look in her eye that wondered why Lexa would suddenly become anxious or jealous because Clarke said she had a ‘date.’

“Come on, I’ll show you,” Clarke said, then proceeded to brush past Lexa.

Like a lost puppy, Lexa followed her through the hospital, down the corridors, bypassing the elevators, and straight to fire escape. Lexa wondered, as she saw Clarke bounding up the stairs, how she could possibly still have _this_ much energy after standing on her feet for four consecutive hours while someone’s life was literally in the palm of her hand. She wondered just how important this date really was, even _who_ it was.

When Clarke finally lead her down a few wards, it didn’t take long for Lexa to realise they were in the paediatric unit, and Lexa’s interest was definitely spiked, especially when Clarke abruptly stopped.

“See that girl down there?” She asked, pointing down the hall towards an open room where a young girl sat crossed legged on her bed, reading what looked to be a surgical book she shouldn’t have access to.

“Is that-“

“My date,” Clarke interrupted. “Her name is Maddy, and she is possibly the most important thing in my life. I know it’s wrong, and it breaches the patient to doctor relationship, but she’s never been my patient, not really, only when I was an intern. And every Thursday, we have dinner together, and we watch crappy reality TV while throwing popcorn at the screen. The janitors hate me for it, and the nurses eyeball me for disturbing their patient, but there’s something about her that I just can’t explain.”

“I know that feeling,” Lexa commented off-handedly, eyeing Clarke closely.

Clarke turned to look at her then, eyeing her too, her eyes briefly darting down to Lexa’s lips before she cleared her throat and stumbled back. “So, uh, did you want to talk to me about something, Miss Woods?” Clarke asked, immediately closing off and becoming ever formal, and Lexa hated the way her heart yearned for the Clarke who had just been vulnerable and there a minute ago, not this cool and closed off version of her.

Lexa cleared her throat as well, running her hands along the flats of her dress. “I did, actually, but it looks as though your date might be expecting you.”

Lexa motioned down the hall towards Maddy’s room, and sure enough, Maddy was standing by her door, her eyes as wide as saucers and her mouth dropped comically low. “Clarke?” She called exuberantly. “Is that her?!”

The noise had caught the attention of the nearby nurse, and she immediately shot Clarke a glare before trying her best to usher the young girl back into her room.

“Clarke!? Clarke!? I _know_ you can hear me! Is that her!?” Maddy called again over the nurse’s shoulder, standing tall on her tip toes.

“Enough Maddy, I’ll be with you shortly,” Clarke called back, and Maddy let out one of the most mischievous giggles Lexa had heard in a long time.

“Don’t come back _too_ soon, Clarke. And be responsible!” Was the last thing Lexa heard before Clarke had literally pushed her down a separate hallway so they were completely out of view.

Clarke looked even more flushed than before, and Lexa couldn’t help but think it suited Clarke, she couldn’t help but think she could get used to an embarrassed and flushed Clarke. She gave Clarke a playful, yet expectant look, wondering how this little girl, Maddy, in the paediatric ward could possibly know about her.

“Funny kid,” Lexa commented, when she realised Clarke wasn’t going to say anything on the matter.

Clarke snorted. “Yeah, you could say that. So, you still haven’t answered my question, Miss Woods. What are you doing here?”

Lexa nodded, accepting that this formalised and closed off version of Clarke was her way of protecting and shielding herself. Rightly so, with how Lexa had behaved last time. “Walk with me?”

Clarke cocked her brow. “Are you asking me as a friend? Or telling me as my boss?”

“Just, please,” Lexa plead, gesturing for Clarke to lead. “Let me build up to it.”

Clarke relented, then tipped her head. “Alright. Follow me, I know a place a little bit more private. These walls have ears.”

Lexa followed closely behind Clarke once again as she took them on a shorter journey, past the nurses station and out a set of sliding sensor doors to an inbuilt miniature greenhouse.

“It’s beautiful here,” Lexa marvelled, her eyes scanning the luscious environment around them.

Clarke crossed her arms. “Yeah, well you bought the place. You should know what it is you paid for.”

Lexa gulped, staring down at the cement floor, the mood utterly destroyed. “Okay, I deserved that. I was an ass the other day.”

“You could say that,” Clarke shot back, her expression softening slightly when Lexa gave her a warning look. “This is where we bring the paediatric chemotherapy patients during their treatment. The colours and scents are soothing, medical studies suggest anyway.”

“Is Maddy…” Lexa began, not even willing to finish her sentence.

Clarke just looked at her, her expression revealing absolutely nothing telling, and Lexa realised it was probably a very sensitive topic for Clarke, one she had no right to pry in, and one she didn’t want to go into when this was supposed to be about the beginning of correcting a long list of mistakes, not adding to it.

She quickly remembered the fifty dollar bill Clarke had thrown on the table days ago at brunch, and she pulled it from her purse, meeting Clarke’s confused expression. “You threw this on the table the other day, I didn’t know if you meant to or not, so I paid instead. Here’s your note back.”

It was a filler, something to fill in the time and prolong the inevitable moment. Clarke knew that and Lexa knew that, but it gave her a small burst of hope when Clarke wordlessly took the note from Lexa’s outstretch hand and tucked it neatly in her phone case.

“It hasn’t been easy,” Lexa settled with.

“And you think I’ve had it any better?” Clarke interjected, cocking her head and placing her hands on her hips.

“No, thats not what I…” Lexa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, suddenly feeling the beginning of a migraine kicking in the base of her skull. “Just let me say what I need to say this time.”

Clarke nodded, shifting her position to something more neutral and less challenging.

Lexa drew in a long breath, reciting from memory the words she had written over and over on her notepad until she could right them backwards with her eyes closed.

“I loved you. I loved you, Clarke, and what you did, I had never felt more betrayed and used in my life. You were the last person I ever thought would do that to me, would hurt me that way. But, I got over it, somewhat. It took time, a lot of time, but eventually I was better. Moving away helped a bit, but I was getting better because I decided I wouldn’t be vulnerable anymore, I wouldn’t let how much it hurt define everything that I did. But I missed you, nothing I ever did could change how much I missed you, and how much I loved you. When I got your letter, I needed that too, more than I ever thought I did, and when it came, I opened myself up, I let myself become vulnerable again, for you, and I waited for you, for days and days and _days_. So you can imagine my disappointment when I was left with nothing, but the same empty, abandoned and used feeling I started out with. Only this time, it was worse. I couldn’t bounce back, not like I did the first time. I was going nowhere fast, and the only way I made it through was to shut everything out, to just flip the switch. I hadn’t even realised how bad I had become because I simply didn’t care anymore. Luna, she helped me work through my feelings after I had closed off. She took me away after I graduated, and she threw me back into everything I was trying to avoid. It wasn’t easy, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I did it, I finally came out on top and started living again. But through all of that, I guess I still have feelings that I haven’t worked through properly, and I need to do that, I needed you to remind me that parts of myself are still broken, and I don’t want them to be broken anymore. For over nine years I have been waiting for you, without knowing it, and I’ve missed you, for so long I have missed you, and I _do_ want to know you. I want to know ‘Clarke the surgeon,’ the doctor who just assisted on a major cardiac surgery, the doctor who spends every Thursday night with a little girl, throwing popcorn at the TV screen. I want all of it, and so much more, whatever comes of it, I can’t not know you, Clarke, I can’t not try, and I can’t lose you again because it was just too painful the first and second times. Those years were the loneliest of my life, but somehow in these past few days, you have managedto make me feel not so alone, somehow I feel so much relief, _so_ much, and I want to know what else I can feel when I’m around you.”

She gave a wet chuckle at the end, wiping her eyes clean of mist before rubbing her hands against her dress. “I guess, I’ve just held this in for so long and now that it’s finally coming out, it feels like a relief too. But I don’t want it if it means I’ll hurt you. I want you to make this decision yourself, the same way you let me make mine. I’m scared, so incredibly scared that I’ll hurt you, that you’ll hurt me, that we’ll lose each other all over again, but I can’t not risk it. I would risk anything for you, you know that.”

Clarke stepped forward after a moment, into Lexa’s space so they were only but a few inches apart. Her eyes were misty too, but no tears had fallen and broken their seal. Lexa wondered whether Clarke was trying not to be vulnerable too, whether she was trying to be strong.

But when a few tears slipped from Clarke’s blue eyes, Lexa knew she had it all wrong, yet again. Clarke was definitely, truly, and enigma, and a superhero. She took Lexa’s hands, bringing them up between them, squeezing them tightly in her own.

“Then let’s be scared together,” she said. “Let’s be stupid, and scared, and let’s risk it all, and let’s do it together. As long as we’re together, we’ll be okay, we’ll make it through.”

The first time Lexa had ever trusted someone fiercely in her life was her father, when she was no older than a toddler. It was one of her fondest memories, where her father held her up and asked, “do you trust me?” When Lexa would say yes, her father would smile, then throw her up higher than the clouds, higher than the sky itself, and when she came back down, he would catch her with strong hands.

The second time was with Luna. Luna had never asked Lexa to trust her, but when Luna had promised her early one night at the family cabin, while she was gently rocking Lexa to sleep after a particularly hard day, that everything would turn out okay, Lexa had trusted her and Lexa had believed her more than anything.

The third time Lexa had ever trusted someone so fiercely was now, was right now when Clarke Griffin took her hands in her own, squeezing them tightly, and told her that as long as they were together, they would be okay.

This was definitely third time’s a charm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know sooner rather than later if you want me to change, do, fix or add anything to the story. I can’t do much once the chapters are out there so please let me know so your reading experience is better!
> 
> Comments/kudos appreciated :)


	11. 11. Happier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa hated the feeling of walking of egg shells she felt so often around Clarke while they did whatever it was they were doing. She knew closure was what she needed, or something to believe in so she wasn’t just going about her day in a state of limbo, constantly worrying if Clarke might disappear from her or tell her to leave.
> 
> She knew that Clarke needed it too, as much as she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading this chapter, if anyone feels like the story would benefit from more dialogue and less internal monologues, please let me know! I’ve tried including more dialogue this chapter, but I’d just like to know how you reader feel about those two things on whether I should do more or less of one or the other! Please let me know :)

The cafe across the street from the hospital, Jumpstart, was always incredibly busy, Lexa noted. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, whether it was the morning, lunch time, the afternoon, or the evening before closing, the cafe was always busy.

The location was a bonus, the fact that it was literally just across the road from one of the largest, if not the largest hospital in the country, helped tremendously. With the thousands of health care workers all working diligently inside the hospital walls, then filtering across to the business district across the road, Jumpstart was bound to get a lot of business, as was many of the surrounding shopfronts, from students, doctors, nurses, government workers, journalists, and many more.

It also helped that Jumpstart was the pick of the bunch, with their excellent and friendly customer service, unique menu, delicious meals, and affordable prices. Perhaps the only downside to such a place was the amount of time it took to order and receive, given the place was so popular. But Lexa had discovered a way around that.

The hospital had cafe’s inside of course, open to the public, and specific staff cafe’s and cafeteria’s, but hospital food was hospital food, and Lexa had yet to meet someone thus far who actually enjoyed the slop, no offence to the kitchen staff. But when there are thousands of inpatients to cater for, all needing three meals a day on a daily basis, the reality of the food being five star was bleak, as was the reality of getting a reserved table at Jumpstart any time of the day.

However, in her short time of being back in Clarke’s life, and having Clarke back in hers, Lexa realised that Clarke had forged somewhat of a friendly relationship with the family who owned Jumpstart, and was promised an order and a table, if she desired, each and every time she entered the shop.

Apparently, telling the owners, “this is for Clarke Griffin,” can go a long way as well, and Lexa was served and on her way to the hospital in less than ten minutes. It had been about a week since Lexa had shown up unannounced at the hospital to watch Clarke assist on the bypass surgery. Within that week, it had become a little habit for the pair to catch up before work each day, always baring coffee and sweets.

Today happened to be Lexa’s turn, which she was thankful for, because Clarke was still working on memorising her new coffee order, and had yet to order her coffee successfully. Lexa found her efforts and determination endearing. At least for Lexa, she was acquiring a taste for coffee combinations she didn’t know previously existed, with not all orders being half bad.

She was glad that Clarke and herself had been able to come to an understanding, it was a start, to rebuilding one of, if not the most important friendship Lexa had ever had. What their friendship had been and how much Clarke had meant to her only served as determination for Lexa to fight even harder at keeping Clarke this time around.

After all, back in the day, Clarke had been everything to Lexa, even if Clarke had momentarily forgotten that. But that meant something, and even though Lexa didn’t want her relationship with Clarke this time around to define her, it didn’t mean she didn’t want one.

Lexa was just thankful that her outburst hadn’t costed her the chance to properly reconcile with Clarke, because if they had any hope of repairing and rebuilding what they lost, it had to be built from respect, and if there was no respect, there was no trust. And Lexa knew that they both deserved something, or someone better in their lives.

They weren’t ready years ago, but maybe they were ready now. It was far too soon to tell how far this thing between them might go, but as Lexa had told Clarke, she was open to the possibility of anything and everything.

That wasn’t exactly the closure Lexa was looking for, and Lexa hated the feeling of walking of egg shells she felt so often around Clarke while they did whatever it was they were doing. She knew closure was what she needed, or something to believe in so she wasn’t just going about her day in a state of limbo, constantly worrying if Clarke might disappear from her or tell her to leave.

She knew that Clarke needed it too, as much as she did. She could see it in the subtle way Clarke held back, dropping her smile too soon or ceasing her laughter too soon, or the way she stopped herself when she habitually reached out to Lexa’s arm each time Lexa made her laugh. Everything was reserved, thought about and analysed, like they were both walking on egg shells, and as much as Lexa loved being in Clarke’s company, the tensile atmosphere wasn’t exactly favourable.

She definitely couldn’t go on like that forever, it would drive her insane. She knew what Clarke wanted, or at least what she was open to, but she had no idea what they were and what they were doing, and Lexa dwelled on it more than she should have because she definitely _didn’t_ want to go insane.

As soon as she entered the hospital complex, Lexa was already headed towards the surgical floor, where she knew Clarke was doing her rotations today. She bounded up the stairs with a gusto, balancing their coffee’s perfectly in one hand while her other cradled a large box from a popular patisserie, full of donuts, bagels and Danish pastries.

It wasn’t what Clarke usually had before her surgical rotations, usually she had some hideous green concoction in a cup. That was what sparked this whole morning breakfast and coffee routine in the first place, because to Lexa, that was an unacceptable breakfast for a day’s worth of surgery.

When she arrived at the surgical floor, a little out of puff, she saw Clarke in their meeting place, and the sight never failed to mesmerise her. Clarke’s hair was waved today, sitting plump around her shoulders. She wore her doctors coat too, a royal blur stethoscope sitting underneath her collar.

The picture would be perfect, if it weren’t for the small frown on her face, only deepening as she turned through the pages of what Lexa guessed was a patient’s file. But when she looked up and saw Lexa’s approaching figure, the frown lines dissipated into a softer and warmer expression, and Lexa’s heart beat just that little bit quicker.

“Rough morning,” Lexa stated, more than asked, placing Clarke’s coffee on the station bench.

Clarke’s eyes lit up as she inhaled the holy scent of her coffee, subconsciously licking her lips before she took a large gulp. She groaned, “God, that is just beautiful, and so are you for bringing me this holiest of holy drinks.”

Lexa smirked, opening up the box of pastries, and Clarke’s eyes only seemed to widen.

“ _You_ are a Godsend,” she praised, reaching in to snatch a cherry Danish.

Lexa shrugged away Clarke’s praises casually, even though there was nothing casual about the fluttering of her heart. “Yeah, well don’t get too loud. The other doctors might notice and think I’m giving you special treatment.”

“Aren’t you?” Clarke challenged, sculpting her brow.

“Only because it’s you,” Lexa fired back with a sly grin.

She loved this, this loose easiness between them, this domesticity, almost as though the last ten years never happened. It was habitual almost, their conversations and sly banter coming with a practice ease, like an echo ricocheting through a tunnel.

Lexa lived for these moments with Clarke without even knowing it, and she lived for each day to come where she knew she would see Clarke, where she knew their relationship would only proceed to go uphill, at least, she hoped it did.

She wondered when the right time to take that next step forward would be, but for now, she was happy with whatever Clarke wanted, whether that was to take that step forward, or wait a bit longer. She definitely couldn’t complain when she got to see Clarke every morning, Clarke’s smile always made her start to the day just that bit better.

“Are you doing anything interesting this week?” Clarke asked, through a mouthful of Danish.

Lexa couldn’t help but laugh at the girl when she looked, as Clarke had somehow managed to smear icing sugar under her chin. Without thinking, Lexa reached in, gently brushing away the sugar from Clarke’s chin with a swipe of her thumb.

Clarke went rigid against her, her jaw tensing and her eyes just about popping from their sockets. Lexa quickly retracted her hand, feeling all kinds of embarrassed, and all shades of red. “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking everywhere but at Clarke. “You had a little bit of sugar on your face.”

Clarke nodded mutely, her mouth still full of Danish while her jaw refused to move. Lexa took that as her cue to answer Clarke’s question immediately in efforts to shift the direction and attention away from whatever the hell she just did.

“No plans this week. Nothing interesting. Just working. Like normal,” she said, a little bit too loudly and monotonously, catching the attention of the very last person she wanted to see right now, Josephine Lightbourne.

Josephine came sauntering over, hands stuck in her doctor’s coat with thatnever ending smirk planted firmly on her face. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she said, lazily throwing her arm on Lexa’s shoulder.

Lexa shrugged her off in disgust. “Look what the hounds of hell dragged in,” Lexa fired back, scowling at the shorter girl.

Josephine groaned. “Ugh, Lexa your banter pains me. You used to be better at it, then again, you never used to be so whipped,” she commented matter-of-factly, eyeing Clarke who decided she would pay her box of pastries more attention than to get in between another show of dominance between the two hard headed females.

Josephine’s eyes lit up, much how Clarke’s did when she too noticed the large box of pastries. “Ooh pastries!” she squealed, snatching one from the box without even asking.

“This… is amazing… where did you get these?” She waffled, wiping her full mouth with the back of her hand.

Lexa glared at the woman, smacking her hand and her pastry to the floor with a _thwack._ “Not for you,” Lexa snapped, shutting the box lid firmly with her hands. She missed the way Clarke’s facial features scrunched, hoping Lexa hadn’t just squashed their breakfast. “You have about five seconds to leave or else,” Lexa threatened, the tone of her voice dropping an octave.

Josephine’s smirk widened, and she sauntered away in the same direction she came from without further protest, effectively spoiling the mood even more than it had been thanks to Lexa’s outgoing actions.

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” Lexa spoke lowly, once Josephine had left, briefly looking at a still mute Clarke. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m still learning how to act around you,” she confessed.

Lexa sighed, running her hands through the thick of her hair. “The truth is, I’m not sure what we are right now, what we’re doing, or how I should act. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by saying or doing the wrong thing.”

She wondered whether touching Clarke’s hand to show her sincerity might be pushing it a little too far for the day, so she dug her hands into the pockets of her slimming designer suit pants. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She offered hopefully, her words sounding more like a question than anything.

She forced a closed lip smile, then made a motion to leave, respecting Clarke’s boundaries before Clarke gripped her wrist, turning her head slightly in Lexa’s direction as she spoke, barely above a whisper. “You don’t make me uncomfortable, Lexa. You just caught me by surprise is all. I’m still learning too, and we can do that together.”

Then she looked at Lexa properly, offering a hopeful smile too. “Saturday night I’m going out to dinner with Raven. She’s in town for a while and is in need of company. Feel free to join us, if you want. You can bring Luna as well, it will be nice, like a double date.”

“A-a date?” Lexa breathed with a stutter, feeling her palms begin to sweat. She really needed to stop stuttering on that pesky word.

Clarke chuckled endearingly at Lexa’s nerves, nodding her head. “Tomorrow is my day off, and Sunday I’m working in the evening, so I won’t see you until Monday otherwise. Up to you if you come, no pressure,” Clarke shrugged indifferently, but Lexa could tell by the hopeful glint in Clarke’s features that Clarke _wanted_ her to come.

She squeezed Lexa’s hand before walking off down the corridor, meet up with a taller fellow as she a went, a fellow Lexa recognised to be Wells Jaha, Chief Jaha’s son.

If Lexa was worried about taking the next step forward in mending their relationship before, she certainly wasn’t worried now. While the question of what they were was still up in the air for Lexa, Clarke inviting her out to dinner was yet another step in the right direction for the pair, and Lexa knew what her answer would be without even thinking about it.

Maybe then Lexa could get the closure she so desperately needed, the same closure she knew Clarke needed as well.

* * *

“Go fish.”

“Come on, Clarke,” Maddy groaned, thumping her bed with her knees. “When are you going to teach me the good games?”

Clarke studied Maddy, adoring her beautiful pouting face, knowing just how well it worked on the nursing staff whenever Maddy tried to get something she wanted. Before her last procedure, Clarke had come in the night before to find Maddy eating ice-cream when the little joker was meant to be fasting.

It wasn’t the kitchen staff’s fault, but Clarke certainly gave the nursing staff a good lecture on monitoring their patient’s more closely, especially the patient’s in the chemotherapy paediatric ward, and patient’s such as Maddy who are supposed to follow strict nutrition charts and fasting orders.

Clarke had heard way too many stories of patient’s aspirating during surgical procedures because they had broken their fasting and denied it to their surgeons, and Maddy was the last person Clarke ever wanted to aspirate since the little thing was already battling pulmonary oedema.

“Go fish _is_ a good game Maddy,” Clarke countered, quirking her brow in challenge.

Maddy snorted. “I mean the _good_ games, like blackjack, poker, up and down the river, you know, the adult games.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Clarke mused, organising the cards in her hands into suits. “Maybe because you aren’t an adult yet.”

“What about cards against humanity?” Maddy pressed, not missing a beat.

“Are you trying to get me to lose my medical license?” Clarke asked sarcastically. “Ten of hearts.”

Begrudgingly, Maddy flicked a ten of hearts card over to Clarke, crossing arms and sulking in her bed. Clarke took pity on the young girl, knowing that it wasn’t easy for anyone, much less a little girl with so much life bursting through her veins to be cooped up in a hospital room for nearly a whole year.

Clarke did all she could, before Cece blocked her access to Maddy’s patient file that was, pleading with Maddy’s treating doctor to allow Maddy more leniency in her actually living her life the way a young girl should. But the truth was, Maddy wasn’t getting any better.

Her leg amputation had only bought her more time, not a normal life or a cure, andinstead Maddy was becoming sicker and sicker with each week that past, the radiation and chemotherapy failing her each time. The girl knew it too, perhaps more than anyone, and that’s why Clarke loved her so much.  
She was strong, resilient, and she kept on fighting, even in the face of certain things Clarke despised thinking about, and it made Clarke hate the world, it made her hate the family who left a sick little girl to die in a hospital.

Family services paid Maddy visits each week. Clarke was allowed outside the room, only because Maddy refused to even open her mouth unless Clarke was there. Still, she never told them anything about her family, or where she came from, not because she was scared, but because she knew that deep down it wouldn’t make a difference.

They never brought up fostering either, because Maddy was too sick to leave the hospital, and well, because they weren’t even sure Maddy would still be around to foster in the first place. And fostering a child with cancer was not a bill that any adoptive parents were able to pay. Clarke had offered, in the blink of an eye she had offered to foster Maddy, but laws and hospital regulations didn’t allow such things.

Clarke was just thankful she was able to see Maddy each day, and that Maddy had a family of hospital workers who loved her and cared for her, even if they did silly things like giving her ice-cream when she was meant to be fasting for surgery.

“Maybe your _girlfriend_ will teach me,” Maddy teased, a roguish smile blooming on her face.

Clarke flushed a beet red, feeling a tingle spread all the way from the tips of her ears down to her toes. “Just because I asked her out doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend,” she deflected, shaking her head.

“Yuh huh,” Maddy hummed, unconvinced, smiling at her cards. “Four of spades?”

Clarke frowned at her cards. “Go fish.”

“What about a dog?” Maddy asked innocently, picking up an extra card from the pile.

“You already get enough of my dogs as it is, and before you ask, hospital regulations forbid dogs on the premises as it is,” Clarke said pointedly. “Seven of clubs?”

Maddy shook her head. “Go fish.”

Clarke picked a card from the pile, snorting to herself when she saw it was a four of spades. Maddy eyed her curiously for a moment, fanning her cards against her face. “What about a fish?” She asked.

“A fish?” Clarke echoed.

“Yeah,” Maddy affirmed giddily. “It’s small, out of the way, and it won’t make a mess. Even the nurse’s station has a fish tank,” she argued, somewhat convincingly.

Clarke sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, I could ask, but I can’t guarantee they’ll allow it.”

“Tell them it’s my dying wish!” Maddy cheered, and Clarke instantly scowled at the girl, getting up off the bed in a huff.

“That’s not funny. You’re _not_ dying, Maddy,” Clarke scolded, crossing her arms. “Don’t even joke about that.”

Maddy shot Clarke a guilty expression, shrugging to herself. “What would you call it then, doctor? I’m not getting any better, am I?” She asked sardonically.

Clarke glared at Maddy through her brows, dropping her arms to her sides, knowing Maddy was right no matter how much she didn’t want to believe it. “I think that’s enough for tonight,” Clarke decided, moving to pick up the cards from Maddy’s bed.

“Perhaps it is,” Maddy shot back, and Clarke wondered which one of Maddy’s absent parents she inherited her tongue from, because it certainly wasn’t Clarke’s.

She straightened out Maddy’s covers as the girl shuffled further into bed, still not neglecting their goodbye routine no matter how insatiable and infuriating Maddy could be at times. She pulled the covers up to Maddy’s chin, raising the arm railings as she went, making sure Maddy had her phone on charge, her headphones nearby, a jug of water on her bedside table, and her call bell in reach.

She ran her hand lovingly over Maddy’s soft scalp, settling her favourite red beanie on top, the one Clarke had knitted for her, and she kissed Maddy’s forehead, whispering, “goodnight my little Commander.”

It was a loving nickname, one that showed there was no real anger or grudge between them no matter how much exasperation and hopelessness Clarke felt on the inside. It was also one favoured by the nursing staff as well, started by Clarke when she realised just how hard headed, demanding and commanding this little girl was during her intern year, how she never backed down and never took ‘no’ for an answer.

A true commander.

On her way home from the hospital, she dropped into the local pet store, noticing their lights were still on amongst the row of dark department stores. She fled to the back of the store where all the fish tanks were lined side by side against the wall, each with at least a dozen little fish swimming about.

She bought one of the decorative fish tanks on display, one full of little ornamental plastic coral and rock decorations. Then she bough half a dozen little freshwater fish, three gold fish, a red mosaic guppy, a blue glass guppy, and an angelfish.

She bought a supply of food, and a little pamphlet for Maddy to read on how to care for her fish. She reminded herself to call Chief Jaha and the hospital sanitary services first thing in the morning to make sure Maddy would be allowed a fish tank in her room.

If a little grovelling was what she had to do to help make Maddy’s stay in hospital more bearable, then a little grovelling was what she would do.

* * *

Every now and then, as Lexa went through old company files, she would find something reminding her of Dante, whether it was research he had been working on, old proposals he never got around to finalising, or pictures of his grand daughter, probably the best thing Cage Wallace had ever produced in his miserable life.

She always felt a small swell in her heart thinking about the former CEO, the man who had maintained her parent’s company’s credibility and had taken her under his wing in what little time he had left.

Her parents were well, still yet to visit Lexa and her new waterfront apartment in Washington DC. Her father was still in retirement, mostly likely permanently now. He had considered taking up a small position in presenting guest lectures and seminars to college students and senior high school students during development and career days.

Though those were all ideas, and he hadn’t actually organised a guest appearance thus far, despite the amass of institutes who would love a prominent figure such as Grayson Woods to speak to their students.

Lexa suspects he had become too relaxed in his retirement to really do much of anything apart from keeping up with all Lexa’s adventures and endeavours through his networking. Every now and again she would get a little supportive message from him, and it only made Lexa want to impress him further, to do the next grand thing as though revolutionising modern medicine wasn’t enough.

Although, now Lexa had more people in her life she wanted to impress and work towards impressing, notably, Clarke Griffin.

Lexa’s mother had gone back to practising, now that the hype surrounding her father’s scandal had well and truly died down. She had maintained her role within the company board as well, however, Lexa suspects that won’t be for much longer either.

She had briefly mentioned to Lexa during their last phone call that they planned to move away from New York and back to a more rural and quiet area, much like Arkadia. Lexa despised the idea of moving back to her home town simply because of all the bad memories it held. She probably wouldn’t even return to Mount Weather either, despite how much Headmaster Diyoza had been asking Lexa to return to speak to the senior students for _their_ careers day.

Like father like daughter. Lexa was just thankful that the scandal hadn’t ruined her parents marriage like the tabloids had predicted. She was still very much envious of the connection and trust her parents shared within each other, and how much they had managed to get through together unscathed.

She would like to think that she might love and trust someone that much one day, but it seemed as though that day may never come. She was still young, still had her entire life ahead of her, but it wasn’t exactly easy for someone in Lexa’s position to find someone who she cared so deeply about.

If she was honest, she was concerned about being loved simply for her title, her wealth and her name, not for who she was on the inside. Everyone seemed to want to throw themselves at Lexa for their fifteen minutes of fame, for their time in the spotlight. The Woods name was notorious, it meant power, wealth, and connections, and many people were out there only looking for that, not for the person beneath the surface.

It had become impossible to separate those who cared from those who didn’t, which was why Lexa didn’t date at all. It was an insecurity she hadn’t even opened up to Luna about, but one that had cost Lexa numerous dates Luna had tried to set her up on as she simply refused them all, well, all except when Clarke Griffin had asked her to dinner.

Lexa was without a doubt one of the most desired and sought after Bachelorette’s, but she certainly didn’t feel that way about herself, especially not when her sexuality wasn’t known by the media, and wealthy business men tried relentlessly to convince Lexa to date their sons. Even a member on her own board had tried prying into Lexa’s personal life to big note his family name. Needless to say, he was no longer on the Woods Corporation’s board anymore.

In an ideal world, Lexa would be happy in a relationship, possibly even married and expecting the arrival a little human. She would be a journalist, or a writer, with aspirations to become an editor, not the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company. She had always enjoyed the arts like writing and philosophy.

She would have married Clarke, she hoped, having never of lost the last ten years away from her. Or she would have married some other beautiful woman who loved and respected her the same as Clarke did, or had, she was still undecided. But her’s was not an ideal life in an ideal world.

It was very _unideal_ , probably not to the materialistic few, but for Lexa it most definitely was. Every choice she’d ever made was governed by the thoughts and feelings of someone else, of how Lexa’s decision would impact them.

That’s why she had taken up business in the first place, not because it was what she wanted to do, but because it was what she _needed_ to do, something that was expected of her to do. And still to this day, while Lexa held all the power, she still had a responsibility where her capacity to make decisions was influenced and governed by the thoughts and well-being of the people around her, and the future of her company.

Lexa doubts she would have made it this far as a CEO if it weren’t for her empathy, her judgement, the guidance she received from Dante, and the guidance she _is_ receiving from Titus. She doubts she would have made it very far at all without the people around her.

Time had only seemed to start moving infinitely faster since Lexa graduated college, and since she took ownership of her parent’s company. It was like fighting a losing battle every time, and time was an entity that Lexa definitely wasn’t on friendly terms with, not even in the slightest.

She had received a text message from Clarke, detailing a time, location and dress code for the evening. The text had come through early in the morning, however, Lexa hadn’t had time to check much of her messages all day after the latest portfolio came through from Lightbourne Industries.

What was meant to be a quick Saturday morning review quickly turned into an hour long phone call, to a two hour long phone call, to a two and half hour long phone call before Lexa inevitably ventured in to the University Department of the hospital where all the revolutionising was happening.

She didn’t really understand much of anything, as the graduates, consultants and professors failed to translate their research into Layman’s terms so Lexa would understand. From the little that she did understand, their current research was focused on using nanotechnology and stem cells to help regenerate the cells and synaptic firing of patients with advanced dementia, a sort of expansion from the trial therapy that Lexa knew Clarke’s father underwent.

She was definitely excited to share the news with Clarke over dinner if she didn’t already know. The research could also help with the regeneration and recovery in patient’s with Guillian-Barre Syndrome.

It was all very technical for Lexa, and she was forever thankful when she was able to leave the hospital and return home to prepare for her dinner with Clarke. Luna had jumped at the invitation to come, and starting chanting about dates and soul mates, to which Lexa just dismissed her. Usually, Lexa just let the girl do her thing, knowing that remaining quiet gave Luna less kindling to spark off from, and the less she bit, the harder it was for Luna to snag her.

But her extended visit at the hospital had left her short on time, and Lexa was rushing around her apartment, flinging dresses and suits from her walk-in closet like a menopausal housewife on cocaine.

The dress code was “formal-casual,” apparently, and usually Lexa was prompt on selecting her outfit for occasions, but Clarke’s text had completely contradicted itself. She wasn’t sure whether Clarke meant ‘smart-casual’ or ‘smart-formal,’ and she was definitely beginning to fluster herself.

She threw out another tailored jacket from her closet, hitting Luna square in the face on accident as she waddled into Lexa’s closet. She hiccuped at the contact, and Lexa looked back with a quick apologetic glance.

“You’re making a mess,” Luna observed, and Lexa threw the next item of clothing _with_ intention to hit Luna.

She narrowly dodged with a giggle, and Lexa gave a long defeated groan. “What do I wear!? There’s less than five minutes before we need to leave if we’re even going to have a hope of being on time, and I don’t know what to wear!”

Lexa wailed, kicking a pair of expensive heels Luna had bought her for her birthday the previous year. “Honestly, you’re overthinking,” Luna tried in a calming manner, trying not to think about the shoes Lexa had definitely just scuffed.

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re already dressed, and it doesn’t even matter what you wear anyway,” Lexa jeered, sticking her head underneath her hanging clothes to sort through some footwear.

“What about this?” Luna suggested, pulling a ghastly looking dress from it’s hanger.

Lexa looked back, eyeing the dress before settling on a disgusted look. Luna made a noise of positive understanding, crossing her arms lightly. “You want to look good for Clarke Griffin, don’t you? _Don’t you_ , Lexie?” She teased playfully, nudging Lexa’s foot.

Lexa blindly swatted her away, ignoring her teasing. Luna chuckled heartily. “Hey, you _should_ want to look good for her, I mean, Clarke Griffin in scrubs is a sight to behold, so I can’t imagine how utterly delectable she’ll be looking tonight.”

Lexa tensed inadvertently, feeling a strange flurry of jealousy and protectiveness surge through her at someone talking about Clarke that way and so easily objectifying her. She clenched her hands, sitting back on her heels, poised as ever. “ _Don’t_ talk about her that way now or ever. She’s not a piece of meat Luna,” Lexa scolded. “And stop stalking her at the hospital.”

“It’s hardly stalking when we work in the same building Lexa,” Luna teased with a chuckle, watching steam just about shoot from Lexa’s ears, her smirk only widening.

“Just stop!” Lexa snapped, falling right into Luna’s awaiting trap.

“Why so angry, Lexa?” Luna taunted. “I mean, you’re awfully sensitive and protective over your girl,” she drawled, just waiting for Lexa to bite again.

Lexa growled. “She’s _not_ my girl. She never was and probably never will be.”

“And that upsets you?” Luna observed questioningly, her demeanour losing all ounce of insensitivity. “It upsets you, and you’re here trying to look your best for her and it still upsets you.”

Lexa sighed, casting her eyes down to the ground. “It has always upset me,” she admitted in a show of vulnerability.

But as quickly as her veil fell, it came back up again. “Now help me. We’re going to be late,” she near demanded, sorting through more clothing hangers.

Luna obliged, not dropping the subject, but leaving it in favour of helping her friend. She began casting her eyes everywhere over Lexa’s cupboard and shelves until she found the perfect outfit. “How about this?” She asked with a hopeful grin, twirling a hanger in her hand and holding a pair of shoes in the other.

Lexa grinned too, muttering a quick, “perfect.”

* * *

“Maybe she got lost.”

“Maybe she’s not coming.”

“Do you think I was too forward?”

“Here, does my text sound confusing at all?”

“For God sakes, would you shut up!” Raven cried, scrunching her fingers through her hair. “She’s probably just stuck in traffic. Now quit your whining,” Raven admonished, rolling her eyes as Clarke gingerly retracted her phone displaying her text to Lexa away from where Raven could reach.

“What the hell are you even wearing?” Clarke asked, referring to Raven’s very unambiguous and suggestive attire, consisting of a tight teal dress that hugged all her curves with a deep slit down the chest and breast area. “This is supposed to be a formal dinner, not an escort service,” she scrutinised, eyeing Raven’s heels which gave her at least an extra three inches.

“Oh Clarkey,” Raven chuckled, patting Clarke’s shoulder, “if you think my night is ending with this dinner, think again.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s been happening back home?” Clarke questioned seriously.

“Perhaps. Not tonight though,” Raven deflected with a shrug. “Tonight is about you and Lexa, and me drinking enough to pass the fuck out.”

“Can’t you wait until _after_ dinner to do that?” Clarke asked, looking over the next crowd of people who were walking along the waterfront dock, hoping that she might see Lexa.

It hadn’t exactly been the easiest feat to get a booking and reservation at The Palace, a popular restaurant located just off on the bay waterfront, and she could tell from the atmosphere of the place that the restaurant and security didn’t take well to drunk shenanigans. There was a high-end and sophisticated aura about the place.

“Only if you ask nicely,” Raven fired back, pulling her phone out from her clutch.

She started to mindlessly scroll through her twitter feed, moving far too fast to really see or read much of anything. Clarke suspects it was Raven’s way of ending the conversation. She sighed to herself. Whatever had happened or _was_ happening back in New York was definitely changing Raven in more ways than one, and certainly not for the better.

Raven had barely been in town for two weeks after what had been almost a year of not seeing Clarke, and Clarke was already almost at her wits-end with how rude, short-tempered and abrupt Raven was _all_ the time.

Gone was the cheerful, mischievous, annoyingly charming and happy-go-lucky girl that Raven had always been, instead replaced by a flat, sometimes moody, but mostly catatonic replicant who spent more time scrolling through her phone than talking to who was supposed to be her best friend.

Usually when Clarke had gotten sick of Raven in the past it was because the girl simply never stopped. She was like a bullet, like a little spit fire on a mission. Now she was more the statue impersonator who hated the world and everyone in it.

Clarke had first figured something had gone awry when their phone calls and Skype calls eventually started dwindling down to almost nothing over the months. They used to call each other a few times every week, or even text when time and busy schedules forbid them from calling.

The last time Raven had visited Clarke was shortly after her intern year began, before Clarke had left for Africa. As a nature extremist and all round health enthusiast, Raven took every opportunity to drag Clarke from her bed and take her hiking through the forests, parks, or anywhere that she could find worth exploring.

She involved herself in ever nature related festival, every earth hour, every charity event or famine challenge. And while Clarke could understand her dedication to the earth and the environment, and she could understand health on a physiological level, it didn’t mean she wanted to be woken up at the ass crack of dawn every day Raven was in town. Although now she kind of missed that.

Raven had always mused that her ideal partner would have been someone who shared her values in nature and the earth, like an explorer, geographer or someone involved in environmental law. While Anya was none of those things, Clarke had never taking Raven’s musings so seriously. She was starting to think that maybe now, she should have.

“You know she’s bringing a friend,” Clarke tried to edge the conversation on, bumping Raven with her elbow.

Raven nodded. “So this is a double date?” She asked monotonously as she continued to scroll through her twitter.

“Well, it’s not a _date_ date,” Clarke shrugged.

Raven just hummed in affirmation, closing out of twitter and opening up her wordscapes app, almost at the impressive forty-four-hundredth level after just only a month of having the stupid app, whereas Clarke was barely reaching level three-hundred.

Clarke pulled her high cut white blazer tighter around her body as a cool breeze swept across the bay and waterfront, the sun now well and truly past it’s final descent. She was unsure whether it was the absence of the Earth’s solar lamp or Raven’s sour and distant mood that was causing such a chilly atmosphere.

She could feel the beginning of goose flesh rising over her exposed legs and briefly reconsidered wearing her white strapped cocktail dress so late in the year. But the restaurant was sure to have heating, and the dress was simply too irresistible to pass up. The pair of girls had certainly received their fair share of looks as they waited for Lexa’s arrival, although Raven was most likely unaware or simply didn’t care.

“ _What?_ ” Clarke sighed, cocking her hip, all but done with Raven’s sour mood. “Spit it out.”

“A date is a date, Clarke,” Raven said pointedly, her thumbing moving at light speed across her phone, polishing off another level to push her a step closer to finishing the app. “I just didn’t realise things were moving so fast between you two is all. Just make sure you tell me before hand if you decide to bring her home tonight.”

Clarke was taken back by Raven’s harsh and judgemental words. The fact that Raven would even suggest that Clarke would bring anyone home after the first date at all was offensive as hell. This _definitely_ wasn’t the Raven she recognised.

Clarke balked, her eyes and brows popping simultaneously. “ _Firstly_ , we aren’t moving fast, we’re just friends, we’re working things out as we go, that’s it. And _secondly_ , if you don’t want to be here, just go home. No one is forcing you to come out,” Clarke pressed, hoping Raven wouldn’t actually leave after she had spent so much effort to acquire a booking specifically for Raven.

Raven chose to ignore Clarke’s jab, zipping her phone back up in her clutch before facing Clarke with a cocked brow. “ _Friends_ who have dinner together and breakfast every morning.”

Clarke shook her head. “And your point is?”

Raven shrugged, smirking some. “No point, just stating the facts.”

Clarke shook her head again, sniggering to herself, but thankful that the old Raven was making a very small, but present appearance. “You’re unbelievable.”

Raven started casually chuckling too, before immediately ceasing all laughter. “This friend better be hot or else I really am ditching,” she threatened in a serious tone.

Clarke gave a closed lip smile, not sure if Raven was actually serious or pretending to be serious. More so, she wondered why Raven would even be interested in Lexa’s friend when she had a girlfriend back home in New York. “Luna is definitely… exotic,” she settled upon, aware she hadn’t gone as far to tell Raven that Lexa’s guest would be none other than the stunning girl who had lured her back to boarding school all those years ago.

Raven had most likely forgotten about details such as those, but Clarke could only hope Raven was on her best behaviour tonight, knowing just how much Raven had fantasised over the girl years ago, and cursed the world because that level of “sexiness” simply shouldn’t exist.

Of course, back then, Raven’s libido and personality were much bigger than her brain, and _that_ was saying something. Nevertheless, whatever was happening between Raven and Anya, Anya was still Clarke’s friend, and Clarke wouldn’t let Raven step out of line behind her friend’s back.

Clarke stood on her tip toes once more, looking over a gathering of people until she caught an unmistakeable crop of wild and truly exotic looking hair. “I think that’s them,” Clarke whispered, nudging Raven’s side.

Raven’s head popped up to where Clarke was staring, watching along with Clarke as a very elegant duo practically parted the sea of people before them. If Clarke’s breath had caught in her throat the first time she saw Lexa at the gala, she wasn’t sure what she would call it now.

Perhaps on the verge of asphyxiation.

And when Lexa noticed her, and dipped her head with a small, shy smile, Clarke was sure she was in heaven.

Lexa and Luna approached side by side, Lexa in a stunning steel blue strapped dress stopping just above her knee with a fanning slit beginning against where the fabric clung to her left thigh. Whereas Luna strutted confidently in a skin tight black dress with quarter length sleeves and two slits circling the sides of her torso, displaying the perfect amount of toned flesh that could leave any heterosexual woman drooling.

“I hope we haven’t kept you waiting too long, have we?” Lexa asked nervously, brushing some hair behind her ears.

Clarke continued to stare at Lexa in awe, shaking her head mutely. “Not at all,” she responded sheepishly, her eyes darting over tan skin, lots of tanned skin, more tanned skin than she had seen in ten years.

Lexa blushed and nodded shyly. “Clarke, you remember Luna?” Lexa gestured towards Luna, who stepped forward with a beaming smile and pulled Clarke into a tight hug, shocking the life back into her.

“Sorry,” Luna shrugged with an innocent smile, pulling away. “I’m a hugger.”

Clarke nodded, then seemed to remember that Raven was there with her as the now taller girl, thanks to her ridiculous heels, stepped forward with a confused look. “ _This_ is Luna?” She asked, almost as though it was a bad thing.

Clarke cleared her throat, lightly elbowing Raven to correct her tone. Luna didn’t seem too disturbed by it, rather intrigued by the Latina, who was now shamelessly checking Luna out. Clarke would have pulled her aside then and there to remind her of her girlfriend back home but that would have more and likely made a scene.

“And you must be the _friend_ … Raven.” Luna observed, opting to offer a handshake rather than a hug.

Raven eyed her, leaving Luna’s outstretched hand awkwardly hanging in the air for a minute before she stiffly retracted it with a less than pleased glance over Raven’s figure.

“So you and Woods have been together this whole time,” Raven stated more than questioned, again in her accusatory tone.

“Ray,” Clarke muttered harshly under her breath.

Luna offered a small smile to Clarke’s apologising eyes, before squaring up to Raven, staring down at the confident Latina. They both eyed each other for a minute, Lexa looking just as awkward as Clarke was feeling.

She couldn’t deny that there was definitely a tension building between these two powerhouse females, and they were clearly thriving off it.

“I always forget a name, but I never forget a pretty face,” Raven stated boldly, to which she proved her point later on in the evening when she called out to their assigned waiter with as many names as she could think of, hoping one might be right.

Luna cocked her head with a smirk. “And hows that working out for you?”

Raven shrugged, her eyes never leaving Luna’s. “Could be better.”

“Should we go in?” Clarke jumped in, effectively slicing through the tension.

Lexa breathed a sigh of relief and nodded quickly, the pair seemingly forgetting that there were two other people with them as Clarke gestured for Lexa to lead, which was a massive mistake on her part because Lexa smelt absolutely incredible, and her dress was impressive from _all_ angles.

“You know I picked that dress for her,” Luna muttered in Clarke’s ear as the waiter lead them through to their table. “I picked it because I knew how much you would love it.”

Clarke felt her cheeks ripen, and she could practically feel the pleasure Luna was oozing from the night already by her tone alone. As she settled in the chair across from Lexa while the waiter asked them for their drink order, all Clarke could think about was alcohol, how the hell she was going to get through the night when Lexa _looked_ at her the way she did with those haunting and seducing forest eyes, how the hell she was going to get through the night when Lexa looked the _way_ she did in that dress which left little to the imagination, and how the hell she was going to get through the night when Lexa _looked_ at her the way she did when she _looked_ the way she did.

* * *

Life was cruel, and if there was one thing life had taught Lexa, it was that you have to enjoy the little things as they present themselves, especially when it came to Clarke. Lexa quickly realised that whether seeing Clarke after all this time was fate, or even luck, it was definitely an opportunity which presented itself, and she had taken each and every opportunity by the horns.

She could see how nervous Clarke was in the beginning, how she peaked over the menu with shy eyes, how she gave her adorable toothy grin when she wasn’t sure what to say, even that little husky chuckle she gave when both her and Lexa spoke at the same time to give the waiter their drink order.

She could see it in the slight tremor of Clarke’s hand as she took her first gulp of champagne for the night, and in the small but gentle rock of her body, telling Lexa she was bouncing her knee.

And she saw the way Clarke completely and utterly relaxed as she slipped her hand underneath the table to brush against Clarke’s thigh soothingly while Luna and Raven were having some internal sex staring contest. It was probably the only time Lexa was thankful for her lanky arms and long nimble fingers, that, and when she took up piano and could reach the keys that other students never had a hope of reaching.

Her heart almost erupted in her chest when Clarke quietly admitted that she wasn’t sure Lexa would come to dinner with her, but it resumed it’s habitual fluttering around Clarke after Clarke blushed when Lexa subsequently admitted that there was no place she would rather be.

Having Clarke back in her life definitely felt as though the air was easier to breathe, and as though an existential weight was lifted off her chest. But Lexa couldn’t guarantee that things would be okay this time around, and that’s what scared her the most. The future never scared her before, because her future was always certain, but now it was very uncertain.

Her future wasn’t governed by certainty or a schedule, and Lexa was used to certainty and schedules, she had been operating on certainty and schedules for a very long time. However, this was a completely knew dynamic for her, it was very uncertain, unexpected and spontaneous. But in not knowing what came next there was also the thrill, the excitement and the rush, and it only made Lexa want to chase that high again and again.

She had almost forgotten about her hand on Clarke’s thigh until Clarke crossed her legs, and she was again thankful for her nimble fingers and fast reaction speed as to avoid a potentially embarrassing situation, in front of Luna and Raven no less. Though, she couldn’t deny the burning ache she felt when she retracted her hand and was left with a cool draft against her palm instead of Clarke’s warm skin.

The night was going otherwise as perfectly as Lexa imagined, apart from when one of Clarke’s ex’s made an appearance, and Clarke looked all to happy to see him, or “Finn,” as she introduced him as. His girlfriend was pretty, and clearly expecting, but it didn’t quell the feelings of jealousy when he held Clarke in his arms a little too long, and Lexa was stuck with only light touches and small smiles.

She wondered when Clarke and her might get to that stage of their relationship again. She certainly wouldn’t deny a hug from Clarke Griffin.

Raven’s eyes were clearly _still_ bigger than her stomach, as she was persistent on ordering an entrée meant for eight, and had ordered a main meal larger than Lexa’s and Clarke’s combined. It surprised Lexa even more when Raven polished off her food like it was nothing, then tried convincing the table for dessert.

Luna on the other hand looked plain impressed by Raven, and was giving Raven a look that Lexa knew all too well. She considered telling Luna that Raven was in a relationship, but it became apparent the more openly flirtatious Raven became that maybe her an Anya weren’t sailing so strong anymore.

It had been many months since Lexa had last checked in on any of her old friends, and she had missed all the gossip with the little reunions and gatherings they held over the years. So she sat by silence, knowing that if Luna was after a challenge, what a brilliant challenge Raven would be.

Although, if Clarke’s scowl and displeasing glances directed towards Raven all night meant anything, it was that this was a situation Lexa shouldn’t involve herself in.

It was just after dinner that Clarke excused herself, with Luna suspiciously following her. Lexa eyed her friend in warning, but Luna gave her a small thumbs off before shuffling off after Clarke towards the bar where Clarke was bringing back a round of drinks.

“So,” Raven blurted after a minute, startling Lexa enough it made her jump. “Now that you and Clarke are friends again, and now that we have a minute alone, does she know?”

“Know what?” Lexa questioned, eyeing where Luna was casually dropping her arm over Clarke’s shoulders at the bar. Lexa tried not to let the fact that Clarke seemed comfortable disappoint her, the pair were colleagues after all.

“Woods? You listening?” Raven snapped her fingers in front of Lexa’s line of sight.

Lexa hummed in question, turning her attention back to Raven while secretly wishing Clarke would hurry back. “I _said_ ,” Raven began in a slightly annoyed tone, “does Clarke know about my invitation to you to her father’s funeral? I don’t know how far you two have gone down memory lane, and I’d rather not have tonight end up in a cluster.”

“No, she doesn’t. We never spoke about those things, actually,” Lexa admitted, quietly wishing that her and Clarke might sit down and have an honest conversation, getting all their cards out on the table before they continued with whatever it was they were doing.

Raven nodded. “Perhaps you should,” she said warily, then immediately looked away.

Lexa observed Raven suspiciously. “Is there something else you’d like to ask me, Raven?”

Raven blushed some, sitting back in her chair. “No,” she said vehemently. “Why would there be something else. There’s nothing.”

“Raven-“ Lexa began in a warning tone.

“Is everything okay here?” Clarke intervened, placing the round of drinks on the table while looking cautiously between Lexa and Raven.

Raven was quick to reply, and quick to chug back her drink. “Of course it is.”

She felt Clarke brush her leg under the table as she sat down, then mouth an, “are you okay?”

Lexa nodded, offering a warm smile before readily accepting her drink from Clarke, adamantly stating that the next round was on her.

* * *

She lost count of how many times Lexa had made her laugh that night, a head back and eyes rolling kind of laugh that built up in the gut and erupted through her vocal chords. She missed how many times she had inadvertently reached for Lexa, placed her hand on Lexa’s, or even brushed Lexa’s legs beneath the table, most of the time on accident.

Everything was Lexa Lexa Lexa. Her senses were filled and fuelled by the girl, since she first brushed past Clarke at the beginning of the evening, wearing the sweetest perfume Clarke had ever smelt.

Not even the sound of Raven and Luna hitting it off in a dramatic spectacle could distract Clarke from the woman in front of her, listening to anything and everything Lexa had to say. Lexa told her about her plans for the company’s future, and her plans for renovating the hospital.

She told Clarke about her plans to get a cat, or something small to keep her company when she got lonely sometimes. Clarke had offered, and further insisted that Lexa should meet Chewie and Eleven after all these years, then told Lexa how Chewie and Eleven weren’t fond of their temporary roommates, the fish tank Clarke was still yet to deposit in Maddy’s room.

Lexa told her she could just do it, waving her hand as though it was nothing. “I’m the owner of the hospital, Clarke,” she said, “If Maddy wants fish in her room, she can have fish in her room.”

Lexa’s support had only warmed Clarke further, as it did again when Lexa told her about the new trials happening at the University Research department, and again how sorry she was to here about Jake Griffin’s passing.

Though there was something in Lexa’s eyes, a kind of strain, something that told Clarke she was holding something back, refraining from saying something. Then again, that could have just been the champagne talking, and it most definitely was the champagne talking when Clarke swore she saw Lexa tense up when Finn had made a surprising visit and introduced himself to the table.

They’d only briefly touched on their lives apart for the past ten years, and while she hadn’t detailed features or looks, Clarke had dropped Finn’s name once or twice in conversation, enough that Lexa probably knew they were more than just friends at some stage.

So, it was definitely the champagne telling her that Lexa looked jealous and Lexa looked uncomfortable. And it was the champagne again which told Clarke to get a final round for everyone at the table before Raven tried convincing everyone to stay for the dessert menu, as though the entree and main dishes weren’t enough.

Only seconds after excusing herself, announcing she was getting another round, Luna had unceremoniously jolted up from her chair, offering her help with a small quirk of her lip. Normally Clarke would have been a bit suspicious, knowing that from Lexa’s admissions, Luna was definitely in many ways a ‘Raven.’

That being nosey, completely unaware and unconcerned with personal space and completely without filter at all times. But the alcohol was doing all sorts of things to her that night, things she didn’t necessarily mind.

“Bartender?” She called, her arm out and up in the air.

The bartender nodded, and signalled for a minute while he attended to another customer.

Clarke lazily flopped her elbows on the bar top, leaning against the cool surface as a dull buzz whizzed through her, the pads of her fingers feeling electric and ionised against the bar mat.

If it weren’t for the alcohol in her system, she would have been startled by the fact that Luna had draped her arm around her shoulders and was leaning on her like they had some higher level of knowing-each-other-ship. She wasn’t sure what she’d call it. Luna was Lexa’s friend, her best friend, and Clarke only knew her from work, yet they weren’t even colleagues. They worked around each other, though never with each other.

Clarke wasn’t even sure whether Lexa was her friend either, much less what Luna was to her, she was just happy that Lexa was around like she used to be. But boundaries and labels were the last thing on Luna’s mind apparently, as she relaxed against the bar, her arm around Clarke’s shoulders with a cheesy grin.

Luna pumped her brows for effect. “Well, you certainly look _tasty_ tonight.” She licked her lips, smirking at Clarke uneasily. “No wonder Lexa can’t take her eyes off you.”

Clarke coughed awkwardly to herself. “Ah, okay, I’m not interested in any three-way scenario if that’s what you’re thinking about.”

“Whoa, easy there,” Luna chuckled, unimpressed. “I’m offended you’d think so low of me, even if it’s true,” Luna whispered lowly the last part with a smirk.

Clarke rolled her eyes, flagging the bar staff down again with a wave of her hand. Luna continued, resting her head against her palm in a curious manner. “Actually though, have you not seen the way Lexa’s been looking at you? She can’t take her eyes off you, and that guy, Finn or whatever, she looked threatened by him.”

“No she wasn’t,” Clarke scoffed. “I know Lexa. She looked anything but threatened. Besides, Finn has a pregnant girlfriend.”

Luna deadpanned. “If you say so, honey. But I think at this point in time, I know Lexa more than you think you know her, and she was threatened. Not by him personally, but by what you had with him.”

Clarke shook her head. “And why would she feel threatened because I dated Finn? That makes zero sense. That’s like saying _you_ threaten me.”

Luna pursed her lips with a curious smile. “Do I?” She asked.

Clarke chose to ignore the intruding question in favour of picking at some loose threading on the bar mat. Luna shrugged, as though she knew something Clarke didn’t. “If it were me, I’d feel threatened because he got to touch you, and he got to kiss you, and hold you, and I’m barely even scratching the surface.”

“Why do I feel like this is a pep talk?” Clarke questioned with a quirked brow.

Luna shrugged again. “Because it is,” she said simply. “Because I know Raven won’t give you one, and because I know you _need_ one. Lexa’s had hers, and she’ll probably get another one because I really can’t help myself. I’m not saying jump into bed with Lexa, but I’m saying it’s okay to feel things with her, to allow yourself to feel things. I think you both need a bit of clarity, as sickeningly adorable to watch as you both are, you look like you’re going to shatter at any moment.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Clarke said softly, well and truly taking on Luna’s words in her tipsy haze.

“I mean, I think I can see when someone is lusting all over my friend,” Luna teased, knocking Clarke with her shoulder.

Clarke groaned. “And there it goes,” she mumbled to herself. “I’m starting to think you’re quite full of yourself most of the time.”

Luna let out a hearty laugh, slapping Clarke on the back just a little too hard. “And you’ll be quite full of Lexa later tonight hopefully.”

Clarke balked, and Luna smiled sweetly, the picture of innocence as the bartender finally made his way over to the pair. She ordered a round of drinks, more determined than ever to make it back to the their table where at least Raven could distract Luna from embarrassing her any further.

As the bartender began scrambling to make Raven’s intricate cocktail order, Clarke caught Luna gazing in Raven’s direction with predatory eyes. “Just so you know, Raven has a girlfriend.”

Luna seemed unphased, her eyes not leaving the table. “I know,” she stated simply. “That’s why at the end of the night, I’m going to make sure she gets home safely, that she enjoys herself, and then I’m going to take her home. It doesn’t take a genius to see that Raven is just looking for a distraction, and I’m not the kind of person who sleeps with another woman’s girlfriend.”

Clarke nodded, surprised by Luna and slightly guilty that she was so quick to judge. “If one day, Raven’s unattached and looking for her next relationship, I won’t be opposed. But I’m not an idiot, Clarke, I’m just making sure she has some fun. I’m her distraction, minus the _distracting_ part.”

Clarke smiled to herself, liking Luna even more. She picked up the round of drinks on a tray, weaving around the bustling restaurant. Though, the closer she got to their table, she saw from a small distance that Raven and Lexa appeared to be in a little heated conversation of their own as well, and Lexa looked about as uncomfortable as Clarke felt just moments ago.

She moved at a quicker pace, hoping Raven was on her best behaviour while she was gone. Luna was a different story altogether, but Luna was trustworthy. With Raven though, Clarke wasn’t so sure whether she could trust a woman she didn’t entirely recognise. She sat down warily, eyeing Raven skeptically and Lexa unsurely. But when Lexa assured her that she was okay with nothing but a smile and a twinkle in her eye that rivalled the moon, Clarke couldn’t dwell on the matter any further.

Clarke would have been content to spend the entire night out and then some with Lexa, Raven and Luna if it were for her shift the next day. And when Lexa had asked if Clarke wanted to have drinks back at her apartment, Clarke would be lying if she said her shift the next day was the only reason she said ‘no.’

She’s positive Luna picked up on it, that Luna’s comment at the bar had irked her and sat with her, because while Clarke wasn’t disgusted by sleeping with Lexa or against sleeping with anyone even as remotely stunning as Lexa, the pair simply weren’t there yet, and Clarke wasn’t sure whether they’d ever be or how far their relationship would go.

Going home with Lexa only to make the same mistake she did ten years ago was not an option. Still, Lexa remained the perfect gentlewoman, and she had her driver take Clarke home, after a mass of unrelenting teasing from both Luna and Raven. Though, Luna’s knowing glance was enough to reassure Clarke at the end of the night that at least Raven was in safe and assured hands.

Wanting to make sure Clarke had gotten inside safe after they’d pulled up along her house, Lexa accompanied Clarke to her door, memorising each and every detail of Clarke’s house as she could. She was initially startled, and produced a small yelp when Chewie and Eleven welcomed Clarke home for the night by jumping and pawing on the front door with a loud _thud_.

In the moment, Clarke couldn’t tell who was cuter, her dogs, or Lexa when she mumbled a shy, “they aren’t small anymore,” as she held her hands awkwardly clasped together at her front and positioned herself slightly behind Clarke’s body for protection.

“This is beautiful, Clarke,” she marvelled, the perfect addition to Clarke’s porch that Clarke wasn’t even aware she needed.

“Thanks,” Clarke murmured, brushing some hair behind her ears. “Maybe I can give you a tour sometime… and we can have that talk?” She said hopefully, not wanting to push too far after an already mesmorising evening.

Lexa smiled toothily, ducking her head. “I’d like that.”

“So, I’ll see you Monday? My shout?” Clarke asked, lingering by her front door, wanting to prolong the moment just a little longer.

Lexa nodded, inching from side to side, and when Clarke saw the gooseflesh riddling all over Lexa’s arms, she immediately felt guilty for not inviting Lexa into the warmth of her home. But Lexa had already begun to make her way back to the warmth of her town car, her slim figure gleaming in the light of the moon as she walked down Clarke’s front yard.

“I’ve been practicing your order, you know,” Clarke called out, just as Lexa was at the end of the path way. She was grasping at straws now, just wanting to see Lexa a little longer, to hear her a little longer, to be with her a little longer, even if they were separated by forty feet of space, she wasn’t quite ready for the night to end. “I’m pretty sure I have it now,” she said confidently.

Lexa chuckled, releasing small puffs of white fog. “I was getting kind of used to being surprised every second day,” she called back in a playful tone, and Clarke’s heart really did start to flutter.

Clarke walked to the edge of her porch landing, leaning casually against the cold wooden frames. “You always liked surprises,” she called back.

Lexa opened the back door of the town car, resting her weight against the frame as well. “And you never liked surprises.”

“Maybe I could surprise you again, then? Keeping with tradition of course,” Clarke called playfully, ignoring the large shiver which overtook her body.

Lexa seemed to notice, and ducked again her head, a nervous habit she’d seemed to of pick up around Clarke. “Of course, I’d like that too.”

Aware that calling back and fourth across her front yard at such a late hour would aggravate her neighbours, Clarke offered a small wave, calling out a soft, “goodnight, Lexa.”

“Goodnight, Clarke,” Lexa answered just as softly, still able to be heard above the pitch silence of suburbia.

Clarke continued to stand on the edge of her porch, shivers and all as she watched Lexa’s town car retreat to the end of the street. She thought about sending off a small text to Lexa, thanking her for such an incredible night, but Lexa had beaten her to it, and Clarke felt a small vibration from her clutch.

It was a message from Lexa, a simple, “Thankyou for a beautiful night. But seriously, I enjoy your surprises…”

Clarke typed a quick, “I guess I’ll have to keep on surprising you then,” back to Lexa, already making her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

She removed her makeup in the conjoined ensuite, stripped down into her garments, replacing her dress with sleepwear and settled into bed, Chewie and Eleven securely and protectively by her side. She pulled out her phone again and saw a final text from Lexa, “I’d like that.”

She tucked her phone underneath her pillow and pulled her covers tightly around herself.

Smiling, I’d like that too, she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this is a slow burn and I don’t want them just jumping back into things right away. I’ve also added the extra Raven component that readers seemed to like in the original version of this fiction. It’s something I can explore much further - just let me know if you want more of a Raven/Anya/Luna triangle.
> 
> As always, please let me know sooner rather than later if you want me to change, do, fix or add anything to the story. I can’t do much once the chapters are out there so please let me know so your reading experience is better!
> 
> Comments/kudos appreciated :)


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